


But What About 'Breakfast At Tiffany's'?

by INTPSlytherin_reylove97



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A Lot of Food is Eaten in this Fic, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben hates The Notebook, Canonical Character Death, Classic films - Freeform, College Student Rey (Star Wars), Dark Humor, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family Loss, Film Buff Ben Solo, Films, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gen, Humor, Male-Female Friendship, Misunderstandings, Movie References Abound, Rey Needs A Hug, RomComs Will Be DRAGGGGGGGED, movie theaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-02 04:30:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21155657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INTPSlytherin_reylove97/pseuds/INTPSlytherin_reylove97
Summary: Ben Solo had a weird theory.“Kissing in the rain equals a bad pairing.”Rey’s nose wrinkled, she bouncing on her toes as another gusty wind swept through the street. “No it doesn’t.”They’d seen plenty of films where there were rain kisses—none of the couples were terrible pairings. Well, maybe expect Noah and Allie from The Notebook.“Yes, it does,” he insisted. “Think of every film with a rain kiss. All the relationships are bad pairings or lead to demise.”“That’s a batshit theory.”Ben stared down his nose at her, toe to toe. “It’s brilliant theory.”~*~A story about two lonely souls bonding over movies, suffering, redemption, and kisses in the rain.





	1. Will & Elizabeth

**Author's Note:**

> Guess what, I AM PREWRITING STUFF NOW. *little happy dance*
> 
> Anyways, you know the drill--typos fixed later and ENJOY!

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

**WILL & ELIZABETH**

The first time she saw _him_, Rey almost walked in the opposite direction.

Because who the hell was watching a late night showing of _Pirates of the Caribbean_: _At Worlds End_ by themselves? On a Friday. Of a film that came out roughly ten years ago (maybe it was less, maybe it was more; she never kept up with film releases when she was younger).

Then again who was she to judge when she was doing the same exact thing.

He was sitting in the perfectly centered seat in the old theatre—_The Castle Theatre_, in downtown Ahch-To—a large popcorn sitting on his lap. Feet were kicked up on the seat in front of him, the massive shadow of the man consuming the space easily.

Hugging her own snacks to her chest—large popcorn, Red Vines, and an overpriced Cherry Coke—Rey considered her options.

She wanted to sit at the center seat, like any film lover, and be immersed in the film. But she also didn’t want to sit next to the only stranger in the theater. So she chose her next best option—

Rey shuffled and plopped down in the row behind him, a seat to the left, because mystery shadow man was _tall_. And broad. Tall and broad and probably one of the worst people to sit with at any movie or performance because he’d partially obscure the view.

However, being the only two people in theater caused any shuffle and cough to be heard in ten-fold.

Massive Man glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow. The blueish-pink glow of the screen illuminated from behind him, casting light across the right of his face. A light scar trailed from his eyebrow to his cheekbone, a small bisection. Dark eyebrows hooded his gaze and his jaw was tight with restrained words, reminiscent of the brooding men described in her 19th century Literature class. A man to make Bronte cry tears of longing and Austen sneer until she caved into compassion.

Frozen by his stare, Rey did what any awkward yet normal human being would do—she waved in greeting.

A tiny scoff sounded from Brooding 19th Century Man, he turning to face forward once more as old trailers played before the film.

Swallowing tightly, Rey lean back into her seat, the old cushions frayed. The metal frame of the seat dug into her lower back. As she squirmed to get comfortable, an ear piercing ‘_ekkk_’ came from her, metal scratching against metal.

In front of her, Brooding 19th Century Man tensed.

She shifted again, another agonizing screech filling the room.

The man’s head whipped to her. “_Just switch seats_.”

Glaring at the man, Rey scooted out of her seat. Part of her was determined to stay rooted in her seat, but she also didn’t want her ears to be assaulted by the insistent screeching of aged metal against aged metal. So she switched seats—

Only to run into the same issue.

“_Goddamn it.”_ His hissed mutter filled the space between them, Rey once again reminded they were the only two individuals in the practically historic movie theater. Brooding 19th Century Man craned his neck back, eyes labeling her as an ‘idiot’.

What a prick.

“This is your first time in this theater, isn’t it?” His honey-brown eyes traveled from her popcorn to the Red Vines and Cherry Coke. “I can tell because you bought the Red Vines here and no one should buy the Red Vines here.”

“Because they’re a rip off.” Rey recalled the five dollar bill she shelled out for just the red licorice. Normally she wasn’t one for frivolous purchases, but she did pay for a three dollar ticket. Buying snacks at the concessions evened out the price in her opinion.

“Exactly,” he replied dryly. “Only shit worth buying here is the popcorn and fountain drinks.” Turning away from her, he shook his bucket of popcorn, the puffs dispersed evenly across the top of the mound. “Also, never sit anywhere further back then the middle. All the seats need to be refurbished and the only decent row without sounding like the beginnings of a horror film is row _seven_. Which I am currently sitting in.”

“_Oh_,” Rey winced, hugging her popcorn closer to her. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Mouth twisted in disdain, he motioned to the open seat beside him. “You can sit here. I promise I’ll ignore you. But I will tell you it is creepy as fuck for you to be sitting directly in the row behind me.”

Her face screwed up in annoyance, her grip on her soda tightening. “Well, I wanted to sit in the middle, but you are sitting in the middle.”

“Because it is arguably the best seat in the house,” he stated logically. Grabbing half a handful, he shoved popcorn in his mouth. “Any idiot knows that.”

Eyes darting around the room and hearing the seat creak, Rey huffed. Leaning forward, she eyed Brooding 19th Century Man warily. “Were you serious about the sitting beside you thing?”

His jaw twitched, a faint nostril flare. “I don’t fucking care, I just don’t want you to be a creep sitting behind me and a moron in a squeaky seat. I’d like to _enjoy_ the film.”

“Cool. Thanks.” With his vague approval, she handed over her bucket of popcorn and placed her Red Vines and Cherry Coke in the cup holders. Swinging a leg over the row, Rey hoisted herself over and awkwardly clamored into the open seat beside Brooding 19th Century Man.

Looking back over at him, she was on the receiving end of a deadpan, unamused stare.

“You could have gone around—like a normal human being.”

She scoffed; clearly this man was the idiot in the situation. “That’s a waste of time and energy.” Rey took her popcorn back from him. “Plus, the movie is starting soon.” She waved to the screen, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

Beside her, the man rolled his eyes. “It’s honestly not all that exciting. It’s just the third _Pirates of the Caribbean_. Honestly the only real highlight is the Elizabeth and Will proposal, a classic rain kiss.”

She paused, puzzled. “There’s _three_ of them?”

His eyebrows shot up. “There are _five_ of them. Have you been living under a rock?”

She sunk lower in her seat, her face heating up. Her childhood was something like living under a rock; possibly worse. But Brooding 19th Century Man didn’t need to know that little tid-bit of her life. No one needed to know.

Being the mature one, Rey ignored the harsh remark. “I’ve only seen the first one because it was on Netflix ages ago.”

He did not seem completely satisfied with her answer, but accepted it, sitting back in his seat. “Well, there are five. _Black Pearl_, _Dead Man’s Ches_t, _At World’s End_, _On Stranger Tides_—but no one talks about that one—and arguably the best, _Dead Men Tell No Tales_.”

“And we’re watching the third one?”

“Correct,” he utterly slowly. His eyes darted to her and then the screen. “Why the hell are you even watching this if you’ve never seen any of the other movies?”

“I have nothing to do tonight. Thought I’d see a movie.” She peeked back over at him, finding what she was beginning to refer to as his ‘iconic’ stare directed at her. Probably didn’t believe her; no one would believe a twenty-two year old would be sitting by her lonesome in an empty movie theater on a Friday night. Surely Brooding 19th Century Man didn’t either. Feeling a prickle of self-awareness under his gaze, Rey shifted in her seat. Needing her hands to do something, she ripped open her package of overpriced Red Vines. “Why are you here? You’ve apparently seen all of the films.”

“Because I like movies,” he droned as the lights in the theater dimmed. “And movies matter.”

Opening credits and ominous music simultaneous caught her attention.

Biting viciously on a Red Vine, she held the package out to him. “I’m Rey by the way.”

He looked at the package, lips pursed in annoyance. A flash of hesitance shined in his eyes before fading into the common, forced disinterest he wore like a old sweater. “Ben.”

Reaching over, he snatched a Red Vine. He chewed with ferocity, eyes glued to the screen. “I still think you are a fucking idiot for buying the Red Vines, but damn they’re good. Movie theater staple.”

Rey beamed back at him, if not a bit smug.

Sitting together in the dark theatre, a friendship blossomed between the broody, lonesome Ben and the grumpy, nobody Rey. Movies more than mattered—they meant _everything_.


	2. Noah & Allie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Typos will be fixed later! 
> 
> Enjoy! :D

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

**NOAH & ALLIE**

Growing up, going to the movies or the cinema was not a common occurrence for dear Rey.

Try _never_.

Rey’s foster father refused to let her go out past four in the afternoon, due to his own poor guardianship. He didn’t want to be concerned of her whereabouts, preferring Rey to be within a mile radius at all times. Her evenings as a child were spent working at his scrap yard and then as a teenager she worked part time as a busboy at the diner across the street from their flat.

All her money was either given to Plutt or put into her ‘savings’—a old oatmeal tin she stashed under her bed since the age of six.

Going to cinema was not an option, nor anything else remotely amusing or fun, if she wanted to get the hell out of town and to the states.

And she did.

Got into a good university (Ahch-To University was a delight and she flourished in her studies), lived in a lovely city (she could bike to campus with ease, taking a route through the picturesque downtown) worked a part-time job she liked (the auto shop gave her decent pay and worked around her school hours, not to mention the owner liked her well enough), got the internship she wanted (working for Rebel Publishing was a dream even though Rey was a mere proof-reader and go-fer).

Rey Williams was finally having a struck of good luck in her life. Took nearly twenty years, but she got there.

All except for _one_ thing—

“What do you mean you’ve never seen _The Notebook_?” Ben blanched. He handed a twenty dollar bill to the cashier and grabbed their chile verde burritos from the taco truck’s counter. “Keep the change,” he told the man as he handed Rey her burrito. “It’s a modern classic—an _annoying_ classic. But a classic. It even has fucking Sam Shephard! _The_ Sam Shephard!”

Peeling off the tinfoil, Rey shrugged. “I’ve just never seen it. Until well _now_.” She nodded to the original movie posted sitting outside _The Castel Theater_ a few yards away.

“I stand by my statement—you must have been living under a rock. I know for a fact the UK gets all the same movies we at the States do.”

“Oh really?” she shot back, taking a large bite of her burrito. “How?”

“Went to Cambridge. Class of 2008. Surprised our paths didn’t cross then.”

She smirked at him evilly. “I was eleven in 2008.”

“Way to make a guy feel old.” He took a large bite of his burrito, glaring at her. A common occurrence in their little fresh friendship. Rey would say something to offend Ben, and naturally he’d retaliate with a half-baked insult and glare.

Usually, Rey laughed.

And she did this time too.

“I’m just telling you the truth. It’d be impossible for our paths to cross considering the circumstances.”

After their first impromptu meeting at the theater, watching a film at _The Castle_ on Friday nights became a weekly event. Hell, Rey even marked it in her calendar, she and Ben going strong for the last four months.

Her longest lasting friendship to be perfectly honest, if not counting Finn. Her roommate had become a friend by circumstance, but a friend nonetheless after learning how to live with each other.

But with Ben it was _different_.

He was friend by choice. He didn’t need to show up early every Friday to have dinner with her, to catch up and then watch a movie. Nor did he need to hang out with her after the film was over to have the most intensive movie debriefing known to man.

Ben was older, with a real job, and with his own life. A _real_ man of the world.

If real men of the world spent their Fridays hiding out in a historic downtown theater, choosing to watch older films for the hell of it. Of course she knew film-going was his way of relaxing, his hobby. Ben Solo worked as an estate lawyer, his job mostly consumed with death and wills and trusts and whatnot.

A sad, yet necessary job. But one Ben did because it paid well and…well Rey wasn’t too sure what other reason would possess him to become an estate lawyer if she was being perfectly honest.

All in all, he didn’t need to be her friend. But he chose to be her friend and spent his Friday evenings with her and whatever film would be playing at _The Castle_.

“_The Notebook_ is based off a book,” Ben explained as they walked towards the theater, eating their burritos. “It’s a shit book.”

“You read the book?” She paused, looking up at him in both awe and wonder. “But isn’t it a romance novel?”

“Yes, and men can read romance novels,” he defended heatedly. The tips of his ears flushed a bright red, an adorable sight if he had not been glaring at her.

“Didn’t say they couldn’t, just find it odd you would.” Rey gave a ‘what can you do’ shrug. “But based off a book—”

“Yes,” he stressed, “and the movie has a better ending than the book.”

“Isn’t it usually the other way around?” Rey recalled how Finn flipped about the _Hunger Games_ books and movies, arguing until he was out of breath how the movies did not do the books justice one bit. As far as she knew the motto was ‘book is always better than the movie.’

“Nope, not with this one.” He took a big bite, chewing aggressively, in hurry. Swallowing, he dropped his gaze back down her. “As you are a serial crier, I feel I should warn you there will be water works. From both of us.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Ben, you always cry during movies—just last week you cried over _A Cinderella Story_. A fucking teen rom-com.”

“It’s a beautiful story about a girl who gets her prince and into her dream college!”

“Of course it is! It’s _A Cinderella Story_!”

“Not all the Cinderella stories are equally made, and that one was made during peak Hilary Duff era.”

Her forehead wrinkled, confused. “There is more than one _Cinderella Story_?”

Ben sighed dramatically, crumpling up his foil remains. “My god, _what am I going to do with you_—yes! There are multiple Cinderella Story movies, but that one was the only one you should care about!”

Turning to the ticket both, he slammed down a ten dollar bill, avoiding the jovial and knowing grin of Maz Katana.

“Ah, my two favorite patrons coming for their weekly visit,” the older woman cooed, counting Ben’s change. She passed the two tickets and four dollar bills through the small dip under the window. “Tonight’s a special one…” Her eyebrows danced up and down. “Very romantic.”

Ben and Rey shared a cringe, taking the tickets.

“Thanks, Maz.” Rey nodded to the woman gratefully as she followed Ben through the double doors.

The bright mustard color lights of the concession stand greeted them, Rey and Ben perused over the faded marquee board menu. An empty act considering the two also got the same thing every time; a Cherry Coke for Rey, a regular Coke for Ben (“How the fuck can you drink that? The cherry is too overpowering. Coke is always the safest option.”), and overpriced package of Red Vines, and a jumbo bucket of heavily buttered and salted popcorn to share.

“What’s up you two?” Mitaka—neither were sure if that was his actual name, just a _D. Mitaka_ on his nametag—waved. “The usual?”

“Yup,” Ben announced, ready to throw down a twenty and ten dollar bill.

However, Rey beat him to the punch, shoving her cash into Mitaka’s hand before Ben.

“_Hey_!” Ben practically lunged over her to take back the money and throw his at the startled though unsurprised Mitaka.

She slapped his hands away, grabbing his money and attempting to shove it back into his coat pocket. “Nope! Nope! Nope! You bought dinner and the tickets and I am getting the concessions!”

“But it doesn’t even out!” Ben insisted, turning back to Mitaka, ready to force the guy into submission. “Give her back the money and I’ll pay.”

Mitaka shrugged, placing the two Cokes down in front of them. “Dude, it’s already in the cash register—it’s done. You lost this round.”

“Ha!” Rey jabbed a finger into his chest, smug. “Now you just have to deal with it.”

Ben frowned, pocketing the Red Vines and grabbing the sodas. “It’s called chivalry and you are _killing_ it.”

“It’s called not owing you anything and being a good friend,” she shot back. Mitaka handed her the popcorn, waving them off with exhaustion in his eyes.

Ben shook his head, leading the way to the auditorium once more. “You never will owe me anything. I’ve told you that before.”

Her lips screwed shut, the wave of gratitude assaulting her abdomen to overwhelming for her to not say something utterly stupid. Ben Solo had the tendency to just _throw_ (_“It’s not ‘throwing’ if I am spending it on a friend.”)_ his money her way. Part of her believed it was because she was one of his only friends, he hinted as much on several occasions. Another part of her believed he pitied her. While Rey wasn’t incredibly forthcoming on her past, vague explanations here and there, Ben seemed to understand the pain underlying her words. A pain that echoed his own to a degree.

She always felt a surge of heat, despair, and longing when he looked at her with a sense of pity in his eyes. As though he wanted to fix whatever was broke inside her. Rey felt exposed at the openness of his honey-brown eyes.

So to help alleviate the awkwardness she felt settling within her, Rey charged forward to the doors, leaving Ben behind in the dust.

“I’m getting the good seat!” The ‘good seat’ being the perfectly _centered_ seat in the entire auditorium

“Ah, come on! That’s not fair—I have the fucking sodas!”

* * *

Watching movies was great and all…

But watching _Ben_ watch a movie—no, become _enthralled_ by a film—was a form of entertainment itself.

“Did you know Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams dated after the film?” Ben said, not tearing his eyes away from the screen.

_Allie and Noah laid out on the road, staring up at the sky._

“That’s sweet.”

“No, that’s fucked up.”

Rey squinted at him in the dark, Ben looking back over at her with a smirk. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth. Apparently they hated each other’s guts before that,” he took a sip of his Coke, giving a half shrug, “Clearly they couldn’t separate the feelings between Noah and Allie and themselves.”

“Huh,” Rey murmured; she never though much on the actors behind the characters. She just saw them as people bring a story to life. Ben on the other hand, believed everything surrounding the event of the making of the film was a context clue. A reason, a hidden purpose, a way to unlock the truth of the story unseen behind the screen.

More amusing more than frightening, though many would contest otherwise.

The montage of young Allie and Noah consumed the screen, the two easily and recklessly falling in love. While she’d seen plenty of romances with Ben in the last few months (_A Cinderella Story,_ _Grease_, _Clueless_, and _Never Been Kissed_ to name a few), she'd never seen him be so vehement over a romance movie, at least not like he was for _The Notebook_.

“Have you ever fallen in love like them?” she asked quietly.

“No.” His answer was sharp, direct, and immediate. “And I don’t want to.”

Rey didn’t have a response, choosing to shove more popcorn in her face. Better to focus on the popcorn rather than the sex scene happening on screen; she could feel the blush rushing from her neck to the roots of her hair.

Ben, meanwhile, was unphased. Almost with disinterest.

Part of her wondered exactly how many times he’d seen _The Notebook_.

Damn him.

* * *

“They—they _die_!”

“In each other’s arms.”

“_But they die_!” Rey exhaled a heavy sob.

Prepared, Ben handed her a wad of napkins. “Honestly, it’s not that bad,” he said between his own sniffles. He blew his nose, his eyes darting between her and credits rolling on the screen.

“She didn’t remember—_she didn’t remember_, Ben!”

He shrugged, crumpling his soiled napkin. “For the better—”

An indignant gasp escaped her. “You are _horrible_!”

“Okay, I feel for her about the dementia, but she made the _wrong_ choice.”

“Excuse me?” Rey said through another round of sobs. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, Ben cringing.

He handed her another napkin and a tiny hand sanitizer from the inside of his coat pocket. “Allie made the wrong choice. Noah is god awful.”

Rey blinked at him, her tears ceasing as she consider his words. “No, he wasn’t. He loved her.”

Affronted, Ben shook his head. “No—no _he didn’t_. He gave her ultimatums, creepily made a house for her, forcefully kissed her on multiple occasions and caused her to cheat on the wonderfully patient and understanding Captain Lou!” His breath came out ragged, impassioned about the circumstances concerning Allie and Noah’s relationship. “And don’t even get me started on the rain kiss!”

“It was romantic!”

“It was terrible and _sealed_ their doom!”

* * *

One fact should be known about Ben Solo.

He was a theorist. A film theorist. A _romantic_ film theorist.

“You need to understand—love is universal,” he began, an edge of ‘teacher’ in his tone.

It should be noted the first film Ben recalled with clarity was _Roman Holiday_.

Six years old and his father up and left (again; he had a tendency to go off galivanting) and his mother, usually strong as a statute, was a crumbling on the inside. She put on a VHS of the classic, Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck gracing the screen. From their silly meeting, to their adventure across Rome, to their heartfelt departure.

His little six year old heart broke as he watched the two would-be lovers share a longing glance across the room, the love in their eyes transcending time and space. A desperate latch of hope, grief, and a secret between two souls. A magical sense of love, only to disappear the moment Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn walked out of the room.

From then on his world _changed_.

Romance, love, compassion—it was everywhere. In movies, television shows, books, the news, life.

But it was the most delicate, heartbreaking, gut-wrenching experience to exist in the natural world.

Ben had seen his mother be distraught over his father enough times to create his own mental list of the true embodiment of love. His parents, Han Solo and Leia Organa, did _not_ embody that definition. Whatever that definition may be because he kept the list close to his chest.

“And while love is universal, it can be terribly misconstrued.” He cut the burger in half, handing the slightly larger piece to Rey. She took it gratefully, chomping down on the smothered bread, meat, and condiments. “People—writers, creators, whatever—” he rolled his eyes, licking off the dripping ketchup from his thumb, “give us _infatuation_.”

“Infatuation?” Rey echoed, testing the word in her mouth.

“Obsession.”

“Okay.”

“Passion,” he continued to list. “This idea that love is all or nothing, life or death.” He held the hamburger aloft, a modern Hamlet with his lament over the prospect of love in film.

She stopped chewing, not quite understanding. “It isn’t?”

“No it is,” Ben once again contradicted himself. “But it is also more than just those high pressure traits.”

She quirked an eyebrow, speaking with her mouth half-full. “How so?”

“It is loyalty, thoughtfulness, integrity, devotion, loving the unlovable—”

“That’s extremely difficult to obtain.”

He blinked back at her, befuddled by her sudden interjection. Brows knitted together, Ben’s lips pursed to the side, no doubt considering if her statement was to classified as ‘stupid’ or ‘_extremely_ stupid’.

“That…is true.” Ben set down his half of the burger, chin set in his palm. “Actually, that is terribly, dissatisfying-ly true.”

His honey-brown eyes drifted to an obscure spot on the wall, consumed by her bubble bursting comment.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Rey carefully set her half of the burger down on the plate beside his. She’d never seen Ben so…at a loss regarding films. Sure, he’d be looking like he saw a ghost when he mentioned his father or a vague statement about his childhood or work, but never about his knowledge and opinions on film. “Did I break you?”

“No,” he muttered, jaw clenching and unclenching. “You just pointed out the most obvious flaw to my ideology regarding love and I now need to completely reevaluate my criteria.”

“Well…” She glanced over at the dinner’s neon clock—just after eleven-fifteen. “I got no plans tonight and nothing by some reading tomorrow. Take all the time you need.”

And _that_ he did.

* * *

Somewhere between one and two in the morning, Ben Solo came to a conclusion.

“Love exists, but it is specifically tailored per person.”

Rey nodded—an simple yet obvious answer. One she wondered why he didn’t find his way to sooner than now. However, she could not help but be nitpicky with his opinion.

“Then how can you know certain characters make the wrong choice regarding people if love is tailored per person—what they deserve or should appreciate—when it is tailored towards their preferences and not yours?” She sipped the remains of her chocolate milkshake, hitting the bottom with a loud, airy slurp. “As in, how do you know if Allie made the right or wrong decision regarding Noah and Captain Lou? Maybe Noah’s love was the type of love she needed, tailored towards her preferences. Not Captain Lou, because anyone would be lucky to have a Captain Lou.”

Mid-sip of his third cup of coffee, Ben froze. His honey-brown eyes widened as her words sunk well into his psyche. He could not compute, another crash to his system. AKA—504 Ben Solo Not Found.

“_Fuck_.”

* * *

(Dear reader, it should be known Ben Solo and Rey Williams sat in the diner until the morning light came through the windows. Both enveloped by the trundles warms hues as the midnight sky faded into obscurity for the day. Throughout the night Coups amounts of coffee were drank as the debate over the Allie-Noah-Lou triangle continued to run around in circles.

They agreed to disagree—until Rey just caved and agreed with Ben, admitting she was playing devil’s advocate.

He glared at her, muttering complaints about her immature and bratty attitude.

But Ben payed for her breakfast without missing a beat.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone noticing a pattern with the titles and movies (hint: it's what is discussed in the summary) 👀
> 
> Also Sam Shephard was an actor and popular playwright. He wrote the modern classic, "True West" :D


	3. Jo & Professor Bhaer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Typos will be fixed later! 
> 
> Enjoy :D

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

**JO & PROFESSOR BHAER**

“I’ve read the book,” Rey declared proudly when she saw the poster—_Little Women_.

Ben snorted, hands fisted in his coat pockets. “Yeah, you and every single English major on the face of the planet.”

Rey deflated at Ben’s grumpy mutter. For once she read the book before the movie and he had the nerve to tease her on the matter. The jab only stung a bit more considering she was indeed an English major, in her second to last semester.

Luckily Ben noticed the error of his ways half a second later. He nudged her playfully, hoping to lighten the mood he effectively dropped seconds ago. “But good—I think you’ll like this one.” He nodded to Maz, handing over a couple of dollar bills to purchase their tickets. “The 1994 _Little Women_ easily makes it into one of the better adaptations of all time. Peak young Winona Ryder.”

And Rey _did_.

In fact, Rey adored the film more than she did the novel.

Fascinated by the sibling relationships and love between the sisters, Rey’s heart ached for a family. A family like the March family, who squabbled and praised and cared with great stubbornness and joy—a true family, through and through. Words on the page could not compare to seeing the characters alive, to realize Rey may have interpreted family wrong, often befuddled and stifled with longing as she flipped through pages when she read the classic ages ago.

She didn’t have a family. Never did.

Never had the joy of siblings and warm, welcoming home despite less than pleasing financial circumstances. She didn’t have what Jo and the March siblings had, and watching the movie made that more glaringly obvious for her. Well, glaringly obvious and determined to not let her own family’s (what little there was, Rey the only one to name) future.

A small sniffle came from beside her as Jo unwrapped the parchment, the title _Little Women_ printed boldly on the manuscript.

Ben rubbed under his eyes, catching stray tears as thunder rattled the speakers.

_Jo ran until she caught up with Professor Bhaer, out of breath and filled with bursting joy._

Silently, Rey passed Ben a napkin. He nodded in thanks, reaching for the offering, only for his hand to clamp on hers, too enthralled with the scene before him to be aware of his surroundings.

Her heart thudded to a stop at the flesh to flesh contact, Rey too afraid to grasp his hand back yet too afraid to shake him off.

_“I have nothing to hand you.”_

_Jo intertwined her hand with Professor Bhaer’s._

_“There.”_

The two, Jo and Professor Bhaer, passionately kissed on the screen, a resolute sound coming from the back of Ben’s through as he watched.

As the credits rolled, he dropped her hand. Unphased.

“They could have had it all. But alas.”

Rey frowned, dumping the unfinished half of Ben’s popcorn into her bucket. Did they watch the same movie? “But they ended up together.”

“But did they really?” Ben picked up his coat, shrugging it on as he stood up. He peered down at her with a sense of superior knowledge in his eyes; mischievous yet endearing. “Louisa May Alcott only wrote for Jo and Professor Bhaer to end up together out of spite and to shut up the outcry of the masses.”

Rey’s jaw dropped.

“What the fuck?”

“Precisely,” Ben grinned, shuffling down the aisle. His arms were laden with their trash, tossing it in the bin by the auditorium entrance. “It’s her version of a big old ‘fuck you’.”

Rey scrambled to gather her belongings, hurrying after him. The two exited the auditorium in tandem, their paces matched evenly as they took the several steps down and back into the lobby. “But Jo and Professor Bhaer are perfect for each other!”

“Are they though?” Ben held up a hand, halting Rey’s potential defense. “Don’t answer that. I’m right, whatever you think is right is _wrong_ in this case, and accept it sweetheart.”

Rey snapped her mouth shut, hugging the popcorn close to her chest. “But…but he was so kind. And helped her—he was her teacher, convinced her to be better. A mentor.”

“And that is grounds for a relationship?” Ben shot back, opening the main theater door for her.

Cool October air chilled down her spine. Seeing her clutch her coat tighter around herself, Ben offered his arm. Naturally she grasped it, the man a walking furnace. There’d been a number of occasions where Rey underestimated the weather, Ahch-To constantly on the verge of a rain storm despite Rey’s optimism.

“Trust me, it’s not. That has power dynamic issues waiting to happen.”

* * *

Ben Solo had a weird theory.

“Kissing in the rain equals a bad pairing.”

Rey’s nose wrinkled, she bouncing on her toes as another gusty wind swept through the street. “No it doesn’t.”

They’d seen plenty of films where there were rain kisses—none of the couple were terrible pairings. Well, maybe expect Noah and Allie from _The Notebook_.

And now that she thought about it, Austin and Sam from _A Cinderella Story_ were not that great either. However she’d never tell Ben that; Rey had a strong inkling he had a crush on the former teen celebrity when he was younger. Though, based off of his reaction—alert and at attention at the sight of her on the screen each and every time—Rey had the evidence to argue it was Winona Ryder who was her friend’s former celebrity crush. Or current one, the actress was making a comeback as Ben liked to point out a multitude of times during short lulls in the film.

“Yes, it does,” Ben insisted, passing her a hot dog with a little bit of everything—relish, mustard, ketchup, onions. “Think of every film with a rain kiss. All the relationships are bad pairings or lead to demise.”

“That’s a batshit theory.”

Ben stared down his nose at her, toe to toe. “It’s brilliant theory.”

* * *

“You’re kind of a Professor Bhaer.”

Simple, plain hot dog in his mouth, Ben’s eyebrows furrowed. Chewing slowly, he shook his head back and forth, eyeing her as though he’d just been insulted to the highest degree.

Swallowing, he answered. “No. I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Rey argued, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You are kind—”

“Not really.”

“—And have a higher degree—”

“It’s a law degree, for estate law.”

“—you are helpful—”

“To you, yeah,” he scoffed, waving to the people milling about downtown, “but to other’s? Not really.”

She crumbled her wrapper, tossing it into the public trash bin a few feet away. Athletic and agile to a degree, Rey made it in one shot.

Ben rolled his eyes at the display.

“I beg to differ. I’ve seen you be nice to plenty of people. Helping elderly cross the street, giving more than decent tips, offering me you sage wisdom,” she said with a little teasing tune.

“Flattery will get you no where with me,” he taunted. “But yeah, I guess. I’m kind like Professor Bhaer—to an extent.” Ben shrugged, choosing to walk to the trash bin rather than take his chances and make a toss. He’d surely miss if he tried. “Anyways, I don’t even have a _Jo_.” He looked back at her definitely, a stubborn pull between his eyebrows, but a laxed expression. Ben accepted his lack of love life as a simple, yet tragic fact of life. “Every Professor Bhaer needs a Jo. Therefore I am _not_ Professor Bhaer.”

Rey did not know what compelled her to let the next words leave her mouth, but her chest ached seeing Ben attempt to hide behind the mask of nonchalance. She too wore the mask well, and knew how discomforting it could be. “Well, I am sure one day your Jo March will show up and sweep you off your feet.”

Her jest was met with a stare of apathetic aggravation. “I don’t want a _Jo_. I’m _not_ attracted to younger women.”

A weight dropped from her throat to the depths of her abdomen in a shuddering, painful speed. In a hot flash, all Rey wanted was for the ground to swallow her in one sinking motion.

With those words out in the air, Ben ambled back to her, a hunch to his shoulders and his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. “I’m feeling ice cream—do you want ice cream?”

Rey nodded, numb from her chest to her fingers to her toes.

She licked her lips and forced a closed mouth smile.

“Of course.”

As they walked to the nearest ice cream shop, Rey could not shake off the cloak of disappoint resting heavily on her shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY POOR BABY REY. YOU LOVE HIM. YOU JUST DON'T KNOW IT YET.
> 
> Next movie is another Disney flick--any guesses what it may be?
> 
> (Hint: It's another James Marsden movie. And he doesn't get the girl again, lol.)


	4. Giselle & Robert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Typos will be fixed later! 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**GISELLE & ROBERT**

“So wait—” Rey waved her hands around as though the film playing on the screen would stop, “—this is both animated and live action?”

“Yes.” Ben nodded slowly, letting his head lull her direction. “Have you never seen _Mary Poppins_?—wait don’t answer that.” He snatched a Red Vine from the cupholder shared between them. “I already know the answer.”

Over the course of their companionship, Ben learned enough of her past—foster system and sheltered lifestyle—to know Rey wasn’t up to date with her pop culture information. Yet he could not help himself with the film references, the stories and images ingrained in his mind from a young age. Occasionally Rey would know a title here and there, usually a classic animated Disney film or oddly enough _Indiana Jones_. But otherwise…she was like a toddler learning how to walk in the great wide world of stories on film. Books were her forte, she a dedicated bibliophile, able to compare different classic texts to plots in the films.

“Actually, I _have_ seen Mary Poppins,” Rey shot back stoutly, grabbing her own Red Vine from the package, “on VHS when I was younger.”

“Wow, VHS,” Ben tsked, “can’t remember the last time I saw one of those bricks.”

Rey snorted, unable to hide the blush rushing to her cheeks. “Would you believe me if I told you I have a few of those bricks stashed in my apartment?”

Disbelief shot through him. Ben shook his head, mouth a gap. “You do _not_ have a VHS player.”

“I do.”

“You’re shitting.” When she shrugged and nodded smugly, all Ben could do was laugh. “Wow—I did not think a single person in this universe owned one beside my mother but low and behold, you do.”

She didn’t tell him how she found the VSH player at a second hand shop, nor how she needed to work on it for over a week to get the damn player to work properly. Or how she bought a couple of fifty-cent movies from the bin in the same shop. She’d been slowly working her way through them, if anything to expand her knowledge on films…though the spike of her gut at the thought of impressing Ben with her knowledge did entice her.

If there was anything to be enticed about.

_Giselle hung from the billboard, crying out for help. Her massive princess wedding gown waved about, silly and massive._

“She’s gonna fall and crack her head open!” Rey cried, mouthful of popcorn.

“It’s a Disney movie,” Ben reminded her, his hand reaching into her bucket of popcorn. _Enchanted _was shorter than their usual flicks and they were planning on getting something to eat afterwards. Sharing the popcorn was logical. At least that’s what Ben argued. “She isn’t going to fall and crack her head open. She’d gonna fall and—”

_Giselle fell, caught by the dark haired man. The two tumbled to the ground in yelps._

“See?” He motioned to the screen. “He caught her. Like any dashing prince would.”

“He’s not a prince,” Rey lulled her head to Ben’s side, “he’s an average person.”

Ben squinted at her, before shaking his head definitely. “Anyone can be a prince or a princess.”

She snorted loudly, her Cherry Coke nearly dashing up her nose. “What like _you_?”

When Ben met her stare, a devilishly, mischievous smirk on his lips, the thought of him— Ben Solo, film lover and self-proclaimed critic—as a prince sunk in with a twinge of reality.

He couldn’t be a real prince. That’d be _stupidity_ and him pulling her leg, once again. And Ben Solo had a tendency to pull her leg and make her look like an idiot for his own enjoyment. Sure, he’d apologize after, but still.

“_No_!”

“Sort of,” he said, head tilting side to side. “But yeah. I kind of am.”

“And you’re just going to leave it at that?”

Ben nodded, choosing to remain silent.

The little fucker.

* * *

Her silliness was hidden under her armor of pain and quietness.

Imaginary friends and whispered games with her hand-me-down dolls were where her goofiness came out in ten-fold. Reading fueled her resources, Rey coming up with convoluted stories where girls could win and save the day. Be the heroes. Save the prince.

Not clean and wait and be sad, like _Cinderella_. To be perfectly frank, Rey hated _Cinderella_. And unfortunately it was one of the only VHS movies her foster home had in possession, all the other kids in the home preferring it over their other few and far between options.

Playing games of her own creation was Rey's outlet, a chance to be her unadulterated silly self...until the other kids found her a tad bit weird to still be playing pretend when she was on the verge of thirteen.

So carefully Rey packed the silliness—the silliness she relished and blossomed under, a silliness providing a momentary escape for her dull, empty life— away and close to her chest.

That is until _now_.

* * *

“So you’re a prince?”

The movie continued to play in the auditorium, some sound of Giselle running around New York singing. A fun boppy song, one that caused Rey to sway a little bit, but ultimately not pay attention.

Difficult to pay attention to anything when her best friend admits he may or may not be a prince.

A fucking prince.

Not something you hear every day.

“Technically of a dead country,” Ben was quick to supply. “The providence of Naboo dissolved their monarchy before my mother and uncle were born. It also didn’t help my grandmother wanted to marry a ‘commoner’ and did not want the royal title. She always hated the system. More of justice and free thinker kind of woman.”

“You’re an actual prince,” Rey uttered with complete fascination and hesitancy. Her imagination was running wild with the idea—Ben dressed in stuffy suits and attending extravagant balls. Grand and opulent lifestyle with a flair of whimsical and ancient.

Yet none of those images matched the man sitting beside her.

Ben Solo, dressed in a red and black checkered flannel, an aged leather jacket and faded hoddie layered underneath did not look like a classic prince.

He looked like an average guy off the street. With maybe a hint of old world in his appearence (he did remind her of the Byronic Heroes she read in her English classes).

“No, not really,” he stressed. He glanced back at the screen. “Can we please get back to watching the movie? I’ll have you know I actually sort of like _Enchanted_ and we are missing one of the most iconic scenes.”

“You only like this movie because you have a man-crush on James Marsden.”

Ben’s eyes flared at the remark. She stabbed at the right nerve.

Over the last few months, Rey learned Ben Solo was sensitive about the rom-com actor, believing the man was forever stuck playing the guy who never got the girl. Rey simply believed the man’s lack of ‘better storylines’ were because James Marsden was too chiseled-pretty and was only a half a decent actor.

Neither seemed to agree on the matter.

“He is an exceptional romance actor and he never gets the storylines or screen time he deserves!”

He huffed, snatching the popcorn bucket from her.

“Hey!” Instantly Rey sprang into action, her old self-preservation instincts kicking in as she reached for the snack. However her efforts were met with a light swat of the hand and the popcorn bucket held at the opposite side of Ben.

“Girls who don’t appreciate James Marsden and the splendor of the song ‘How Does She Know?’ don’t get to hold the popcorn bucket.”

Rey sat back down, lips pursed moodily.

Petulant, Ben focused on the movie once more, humming along to the song under his breath.

For someone who wasn’t technically a prince, he sure did act like whiney one seventy-five percent of the time…

Okay maybe, _fifty_ percent.

She wasn’t _that_ cruel.

* * *

Certain Selected Facts About the Naberrie Family, the Once Royal family of Naboo, as Told By 'would-be-prince' Ben Solo:

  * _Ben Bail Organa Skywalker Solo was the former and last Queen’s only grandchild._

  * _His mother would have inherited the throne (if it still existed), but Ben would have not because Naboo was known for it’s female, and only female, monarchs._

  * _His mother and uncle did not live with their mother nor their father growing up, as their mother was helping establish the new parliamentary system with a neighboring country. So no, his mother and uncle also did not grow up as royalty._

  * _He honestly knows nothing about the system except what history books told him._

  * _And no, he does not know any royals. And no, he does not want to meet any royals._

  * _The family still owns an estate in Naboo and they are still somewhat respected by the locals._

  * _Yes….he does have certain artifacts from the royal family that no one can know about._

“You have a crown, don’t you?”

“It’s not a crown.”

“Oh my god. _You own a crown_.”

“I do _not_ own a crown.”

“Then….family jewels?”

Ben chewed hard on the inside of his cheek, eyes darting to her through his peripherals.

“……No.”

Rey gapped, eyes sparkling with delightful mirth. “You fucking liar.”

* * *

_Giselle and Robert fell, sliding down the slope of the building. Luckily, Robert stopped their fall, the two relieved. Glancing to each other, they reached for another kiss, both soaked to the bone from the downpour._

Rey’s nose wrinkled. “That…was anti-climatic.”

“Yup,” Ben agreed wholeheartedly.

“Like…no tongue. No movement. Just lips on lips.”

She pressed her two index fingers together as reference. The tips barely touched.

He hummed in agreement. "Exactly."

She slumped, tossing her trash into the empty popcorn bucket. "I feel cheated. Like I was promised more but got...this."

Ben stood up, the epilogues for the characters beginning to play. He stretched his arms, looking back down at her with amusement. “Who knew you were so critical about film kisses.”

His sardonic quip was met with her bummed out pout. “I just…I just thought there’d be, I don’t know, more _pizzazz_. It is a fairytale!”

* * *

“_I’VE BEEN DREAMING OF A TRUE LOVE'S KISS_!”

A groan came from Ben, he trailing a behind her. “Shut up.”

“Oh, _come on_,” Rey skipped back to him, surging too far ahead in her excitement. “Like you don’t want to sing the song!”

“I don’t sing,” Ben replied stiltedly, a few paces behind her.

“You sing!” She cried, walking backwards to face him. “I heard you singing along in the theater.”

He watched out for her, pulling her the other direction when she was heading in the opposite direction of their favorite diner. “But that’s different!”

“Liar!” She spun back around, a giddy grin on her lips. Taking a big, deep breath, she started again. _“I’VE BEEN DREAMING OF A TRUE LOVE'S KISS!” _She sang the line over and over, terribly off key and swaying around in a boisterous single partner waltz.

“Is that the only line you know?” Ben guffaw, a sting chuckles escaping from him. “You know it is an _entire_ song. Not just one sung line.”

“I won’t stop until you sing along,” Rey taunted back.

Glancing around the empty downtown strip, Ben's shoulders hunched. He took small steps closer-- never shuffling, Ben did not shuffle-- until he was less than half a foot away from her. A breath away.

And then very, very quietly--

_"I've been dreaming of a true love's kiss."_

He did not sound perfect, but he sounded lovely.

Voice low and ethereal, there was something exceptionally honest; better than anything she'd ever heard.

Rey grinned up at him. "You did it. You sang--"

"We never speak of this again." Ears red he brushed past her, but Rey caught his hand before he could get too far.

With a stroke of courage, she intertwined their fingers and dragged him along, acting as though the mere action meant nothing.

A platonic hand holding. People did that, right?

She didn't dare look at his face, knowing he'd have his casual look of indifference. The same apathetic gaze he held when ever he witnessed any ounce of affection.

Taking a deep breath, she started again. "I'VE BEEN--"

"No, no, no," Ben insisted, shaking his head indignantly. "The agreement was no singing if I sang--"

"That was not the agreement! We didnt shake on anything!"

"Nothing needed to be shook-- it was implied!"

* * *

(Once again dear reader, it should be noted Rey and Ben continued to bicker all the way to the diner.

Neither released the other's hand until they sat opposite each other in their usual booth.

And Ben didn't want to let go.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BEN. WHAT WILL WE DO WITH YOU.
> 
> Next one is a beloved film in the reylo fandom...One we constantly draw comparisons and metas from....any guesses?
> 
> Also I am making a playlist for this fic, including music from the movies they see and of course the song that inspired this fic!


	5. Mr. Darcy & Elizabeth (?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, they talk about Pride & Prejudice. You're welcome.
> 
> Typos will be fixed later!
> 
> Enjoy :D

* * *

** CHAPTER FIVE **

**MR. DARCY & ELIZABETH (?)**

“You need to understand, kissing in the rain must be uncomfortable.”

Ben pressed the blinking red button, the coffee machine whirring on. A solid ping of drips sounded from the pot. He turned back to Rey with a satisfied nod.

“And that is one of your ‘Doomed Pairing’ points?” She dipped her snickerdoodle cookie into her mug of almond milk (Ben only had almond milk; surprisingly, he was lactose intolerant). Biting into the soggy treat, she hummed. “Because I think it might be a flimsy point. No weight to the argument.”

Ben swiped a cookie from her plate, breaking it in half and eating the smaller side. “No. It is just a fact to consider when these couples dive head first into a rain kiss. No one willingly goes into a rain kiss.”

A indignant scoff came from the back of her throat—this man was surely ridiculous. “Because it is an act of passion!”

“Because it is a _trope_.”

* * *

Despite being friends for well over a year, neither Rey nor Ben had ever been to each other’s homes.

Not on purpose, just a matter of circumstance.

Rey lived on the inland end of town, closer to the university. Meanwhile Ben’s condo resided just off downtown, near the ocean front.

Their outings never led them to venturing further than the lines of downtown, rushing to the diner after a movie to debrief or stopping at a local food truck to scarf down greasy food with little regret. Never had there been a reason for them to go to the other’s home—they weren’t those type of friends.

But they apparently were going to become those type of friends when they found a line coming from _The Castle Theater_ stretching half the downtown strip.

“Maz, what the hell is this?” Ben asked, crowding in by the ticket booth. The patron paying for their ticket glared up at him, but Ben paid no mind, eyes focused on the tiny woman.

Coke bottle glasses spared him a small glance, before handing out a ticket to the customer. “It’s a Classic Horror Film Festival.”

“But it’s _January_.”

The woman shrugged. “I have to keep this theater alive somehow, Ben Solo. We have it every other year. You’re fault for not looking at the schedule.” Her eyes then landed on Rey, raising an eyebrow at the girl. “Keep your man in check and tell him date night will have to be somewhere else tonight.”

Rey didn’t even have a response. Maz made enough off-handed comments about her and Ben’s relationship the quips no longer caused a flash of embarrassment to rile through her.

Grabbing Ben’s arm, Rey reeled him back. “Come on, we can just skip a movie tonight. Maybe…” she rattled her mind for an alternative, falling short. Fridays were movie nights, and the thought of doing something different felt like an unspoken betrayal to their routine. “Maybe see what else we can do?”

Ben’s usual frown deepened. “We _will_ see a movie.”

“Where?”

He began pulling her in the opposite direction of the theater, bypassing their usual meet up spot by the opulent, sculpted fountain. “My place. It’s only a fifteen minute walk from here.”

* * *

“But does _Pride & Prejudice_ even count?”

Rey took the offered mug of coffee from Ben. She dropped a few sugar cubes and a dash of cream, Ben’s nose wrinkling at the sight.

He only put almond milk in his. Gross. Not even a little bit of sugar.

“Yes, of course it counts.”

“But it's technically not a rain kiss.”

“She kisses his hand!” Ben erupted, hands flying in the air in frustration. A hand ran through his hair, Ben matching her bemused stare heatedly. “In the mist Lizzie kisses Darcy’s hand! That counts.”

Reaching over the island’s counter, Rey pulled Ben’s mug closer to her. She didn’t need him to spill coffee all over the kitchen because he needed to prove a point.

Plus it was a cute little mug, with the phrase—“_As I suspected, I was right all along._”

A perfect mug for a know-it-all like Ben.

“I think it might be a stretch,” Rey confessed. “I mean if they kissed during his rain proposal, then yes.”

“But they didn’t,” Ben droned. “And it wouldn’t have made sense if they did.”

“So you are now saying rain kisses _can_ make sense?” Rey’s eyes narrowed on him. “I think you are contradicting yourself here, Ben.”

“No!” His face scrunched up, ears and neck burning bright red the more Rey countered him. He reminded her of a flustered little boy getting his favorite toy taken away and forced to take a break. “I’m right—it counts!”

“No it doesn’t!” Rey cried out, dropping her head on the counter. She groaned against the marble counter top, glaring at Ben over her folded arms. “You just don’t want to admit Lizzie and Darcy are an amazing pair!”

“They aren’t.” Ben ran another racing hand through his hair, pacing the small space of his kitchen. “They are terrible together. They argue all the time—he doesn’t know how to speak about his emotions and she clearly deserves someone who doesn’t accidentally insult her.”

“But he makes up for it!”

Ben balked, offended by the reasoning. “And she should forgive him?”

“Of course!” Rey sat back up, hands splayed out on the counter. “They learn to see past their differences and see they have far more in common in their mentality than they let themselves believe at first meeting. She is not inferior and he is not a snob—”

“He’s still a snob,” Ben insisted, his pacing coming to a halt. He leaned against the counter in a slump, bothered by the valid rebuttals Rey presented. “But I guess a _kind_ snob.”

Rey obnoxiously rolled her eyes; leave to Ben to give a back handed compliment to one of the most beloved literary characters known to man.

Sage wisdom shined in her eyes, Rey resting a comforting hand on Ben’s forearm. She gave a reassuring squeeze, her humble nod a cherry on top to her efforts. “I get it; you are just bothered because you are a Darcy.”

“_I AM NOT A DARCY_.”

* * *

Rey knew Ben loved movies. It was a fact of life, just like the sky was blue.

She just didn’t consider how much of a fanatic he happened to be until she was in his home.

“_Pride & Prejudice_ should be on the third shelf, second to the last.”

Her eyes darted the span of the large bookshelf—neigh, _wall_—of DVDs and Blu-rays. Shelves ranged from the ceiling to the floor, the mahogany dust free and shining under the warm lamp’s glow.

Was it appropriate to be turned on by someone’s film library? Because that seemed to be the case with Rey, unable to think properly at the sight.

“If you can’t reach it, I have a stepping stool by the stairs. You like mushroom chicken right?” Ben called out from the kitchen, ordering their Chinese take-out.

“Yeah, mushroom chicken is great!”

Eyeing the shelf warily once more, Rey ran off to the stairs a few feet away. She spotted the stepping stool tucked under the alcove by the stairs and brought it back to the bookshelf. Now at a taller height, she found the DVD with ease and brought it over to the television.

The living room was cozy, only a loveseat, an arm chair, and a coffee table to fill out the room beside the entertainment center. Books were stacked beside the armchair, along with a stray folder or two, no doubt from his cases. Glasses were abandoned on the coffee table, a notepad with delicate and steadily crafted calligraphy resting under it.

Not a home for entertainment, but a home for one. The thought that she’d been one of the few individuals in Ben’s life to step foot into Ben’s apartment sent both a nervous and privileged thrill through her bones. The gesture proved their friendship meant more than just watching old movies in an historic theater. They could hangout with each other outside of their normal, unspoken boundaries.

A tiny step forward in their relationship, one Rey appreciated.

Deciding to be of use, Rey popped open the DVD case to place the disc in the player. Except she didn’t know which box was which, each device a matching sleek black with little to no label.

An array of remotes stared back at her, Rey unsure of what to use.

Thankfully, Ben came into the living room before she could possibly make a guess. “Cool, you got it.” He traded her the DVD for the bowl of popcorn, Rey happy with the switch. “Now I don’t have soda here, but I think you can survive one night without Cherry Coke,” Ben teased as put the DVD in the player. “Also, you can help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen—I only have one rule when it comes to watching movies here.”

“And what is that?” Rey asked, kicking off her shoes. She tucked her legs under her, getting comfortable on her corner of the love seat. She wrapped a discarded, checkered throw blanket around her. 

“My house; my opinions are right and yours are wrong, unless I say they are right. No arguments about it.”

* * *

“You are breaking the one rule I have!”

“It’s a stupid rule!” Rey hopped off the kitchen stool, taking her empty mug to the sink. She went back and picked up Ben, he not one to drink coffee once it had gone cold. “You are not always right, Ben. That’s not how life works.”

“I know I am not always right,” Ben agreed readily, following her to the sink. “But I am right about movies and in this house we respect my movie opinions.”

“How about we respect _all_ movie opinions?” She countered back, starting to wash their dirty mugs.

Opening a drawer, Ben pulled out a dish towel and began drying the washed dishes. “Hm, no. Because that is simply asking for too much.”

Rey paused her washing, peering up at him. “Do you hear yourself when you speak?”

“I do—it’s called self-awareness,” he said easily, unoffended by her remark.

He put the mugs away, spinning back around to face her. His gaze trailed to the window, part of the ocean waves seen under the glowing moonlight. It was just half past midnight, their viewing of Pride and Prejudice taking far longer than either anticipated. The arrival of dinner and arguments over the source material caused several pauses and rewinds throughout the night.

Ben already offered for Rey to crash in his home office, she taking the option readily instead of trekking back to her apartment into the foggy night or allowing her host to drive her through the fog.

“I can prove I am right.”

“How so?”

“Get your coat, and you’ll see.”

* * *

“You’re fucking insane!” Rey growled, Ben dragging her down the road until they reached closer to the sand dunes, where the fog was thicker. “It’s freezing and misty—”

Her words dropped, she realizing what exactly he was doing.

He grinned smugly down at her, still allowing her to cower closer for warmth. The chilly midnight air caused they both to hold the other tighter, neither minding.

“You, Benjamin Bail Organa Skywalker Solo,” he sighed bitterly at the use of his full name, the sound fueling her on, “are the most stubborn and insufferable man I have _ever_ met. You simply cannot handle being wrong, can you?” Rey crumpled into a fit of laughter, cool air filling her lungs.

“Does this mist,” he shook his face up in air, “feel wet—like _rain_?”

She chuckled at his dark locks stuck to the side of his face, the mist seeping into their hair, clothes, and skin.

“It does feel…_damp_,” she said stout, an attempt to remain unamused.

Ben wiggled his hand out from between them, holding it out to her. “Would you like to do the honors and kiss my hand?”

Looking up at him through her lashes, Rey glared. “You’re an idiot.”

“My hand is waiting, dear Elizabeth,” he taunted, chest rumbling. The back of his hand waved in her face.

“I don’t know where your hand has been.”

“Oh come on, I was just doing the dishes with you. You know exactly where these hands have been,” Ben reminded her. “Look at this hand—just _waiting_ to be held and kissed.” He continued his little comments, a joking grin on his lips.

He probably thought she wouldn’t do it, and cave agreeing with his stance on the Elizabeth and Darcy hand-kiss debate.

However, Rey deftly caught his hand and planted a firm kiss on his knuckles.

And Ben fell silent.

The kiss was not long, brief and to the point, Rey releasing his hand less than a moment later.

“_There_—I did it.”

She tried not to think of the warmth of his hand, not cold like Darcy’s as Elizabeth proclaimed in the film. Or the faint callouses she felt when she held his hand, wondering what exactly caused his skin to become weathered. Or how time stilled for a second, she and Ben the only ones who mattered, the rest of the world—mist, ocean, sand—faded from her senses.

She tried not to think of any of these things, preferring to be casual.

Nonchalant.

As though none of this mattered. (But it did.)

Ben exhaled, his warm breath puffing visibly in the misty air.

His eyes did not meet hers.

“That you did.”

* * *

(They stumbled back through the dunes to his home, sand getting all over their legs and shoes. Carefully, they dusted each other off and left their coats and shoes by the entrance.

Ben went to go make Rey’s bed in the office, while she went to go clean herself up in his ensuite bathroom. He made sure to make the futon somewhat comfortable, adding more pillows and blankets than necessarily.

Proud of his work, he went back to his bedroom to find Rey half asleep on the corner of his bed.

She fell asleep while waiting, not wanting to bother him.

With gentle and respectful hands, he guided her under the covers. The girl curled at the weight and warmth of the duvet, hugging a pillow close to her face and chest. Once he made sure she was okay and falling into deep slumber, Ben left the room.

As he feel asleep on the futon in his office, he made a mental list of what to make Rey for breakfast the next morning. He tried not to think how this may be his only opportunity to make her such a meal. Or how she never would have stayed the night if the weather wasn’t such a bitch.

Nor did he try to think of how her lips felt on his skin—the tantalizing thought of how those lips would feel on his neck or…

A girl like her deserved more than he could ever offer.

The least he could do was make her a special home-made breakfast and the quiet promise of his friendship.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY. BEN PLEASE STOP WITH THE SELF PITY. SHE LOVES YOU.
> 
> Next movie? It is not a romance. In fact it is a comicbook movie with an iconic rain kiss. One our characters debate if it is even romantic at all.


	6. Peter & Mary-Jane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was written and then rewritten, and then in editing hell because I wanted it to be right, and you'll understand why. So now we have whatever this chapter is....
> 
> Typos will be fixed later.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

**PETER & MARY-JANE**

Certain truths (about roughly _four_; however it is an every changing list, yet these few seem to remain the same for the years to come) should be understood about Rey Williams.

One—_she was independent to a fault. A recluse of sorts._

Her childhood was lonely, her teenaged Rey reflected as such, and only out of the cusp of adulthood did she try to make friends beyond the mere friends-by-circumstance.

Apparently making friends as an adult was far more difficult than anyone warned her. Not that anyone could warn her, options of role models limited for stubborn little Rey.

Besides Finn (Who’s status of ‘friend’ was debatable considering he had a habit to running off for days without a word, only to come back with some bizarre story—for instance, the previous week her roommate came back with a tiny dog he saved from drowning. Neither are sure their apartment allows pets), she never had a true honest-to-god friend who genuinely cared about her wellbeing.

Until Ben that is.

“You are going to break something,” Ben warned, hands stuffed deep into his coat pockets. His eyes were locked on her, Rey’s unwilling spotter as she climbed the jungle gym. “I’m pretty sure this playground is not up to code.”

“I’ll be _fine_! I’ve done this dozens of time growing up.”

Her hands gripped the cool metal for dear life as she continued to climb the octagon-style dome. Rey did not account for the fact late night mist from the ocean would make her endeavor slick and wobbly. Less like the burning sensation of thin skin rubbing against metal bars she knew from her younger years.

“Okay, sure. But I am assuming you were probably at least a foot shorter and were a bit of a little monkey.”

From the top of the dome, Rey rolled her eyes. “Yes, maybe. But muscle memory is a thing, Benjamin Bail Organa Sky—”

“I do not need my entire name called out, thank you very much.” His interjection was sharp and to the point, Ben’s lips dipping down. “I should have never told you my full name.”

Her chuckle rang through the empty park, Ben peeking back up at her at the sound. A budging smile curled on his lips, he withholding his own laughter.

“You look ridiculous, you know? A grown woman climbing a jungle gym,” he drawled out, stepping closer to the structure. Ducking his head and shoulders low, he carefully entered through the small, four-foot entrance.

He stood in the middle of the dome, staring up at her. Bemusement shined in his eyes, yet his shoulders remained tense, as though expecting the worst.

The worst being she fell off the jungle gym dome and broke a bone.

“Ridiculousness for the sake of science!” Rey squirmed on the bars, putting herself in a somewhat sitting position in the square opening. Her legs hung on one side with her ankles crossed, prepared for the drop. “Ready?”

Directly below her, Ben sighed, a nervous tremor in the back of his throat. “I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Too bad, I’m already up here,” Rey shot back, shifting her grip on the bars. “On the count of three,” she took a deep breath, “One…two—”

“We honestly don’t have to do this.”

“—_Three_!”

* * *

“I hate Spider-Man.”

Rey stared long and hard at the poster of _Spider-Man_, the art sleek and modern for an early 2000s film. Beside her, Ben gawked, his disbelief quickly morphing into offense.

“You are no longer allowed at my house,” Ben declared without letting another second pass.

He handed Maz cash, she slipping the two tickets to him with a wink. Both nodded politely with forced smiles; going through the motions of an average Friday night.

“Spider-Man is arguably the best comic book hero to exist—”

“He really isn’t,” Rey countered swiftly, opening the lobby door.

Ben followed after her, not entirely pleased with her opinion. “And what makes you say that?”

“There are a multitude of films on this one guy—there must be something filmmakers are not getting right.”

“Or maybe he is just _that_ great.”

“Or maybe he really isn’t and is a cash cow?”

Ben chewed his lips together, unable to argue with her point. Coming round to the concessions stand, he reached for his wallet once more. “The usual Mitaka,” Ben ordered, earning a less than enthusiastic nod from the kid.

“Just so you guys know, other guests might be in the theater tonight,” Mitaka warned, pumping extra butter on the popcorn. “Since people apparently really like _Spider-Man_.”

“Well, she doesn’t,” Ben jutted his thumb to Rey. “Because if you did not know this Mitaka, Rey is a heathen.”

“My goodness, you are a drama queen,” Rey grumbled, taking the offered popcorn from Mitaka. She sent the younger man a pleasant expression, borderline pleading him to take her side. “I am not a heathen—I simply don’t get the hype around Spiderman and why we have a thousand movies on him. It makes watching the Spiderman filmography ridiculously confusing.”

Mitaka’s brows furrowed in disbelief. He capped their Coke and Cherry Coke, pushing the drinks towards Ben. “Have you been living under a rock?”

“No! I _haven’t_!”

“Yes, she has.”

Their words overlapped, Mitaka’s eyes darting between the two frantically.

“I just…grew up without movies,” when Mitaka’s puzzled frowned deepened, Rey groaned. “I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

With that, she marched off towards the auditorium, already munching on the popcorn.

“Your girlfriend is weird,” Mitaka muttered, shaking his head.

Ben shrugged, not correcting the kid on their relationship status. “Yeah, I know.

* * *

Two—_She was reckless, yet within reason. Her reasons. No one seemed to understand that about her._

Her face collided with his chest.

“_Fuck_!”

“Shit—are you okay?”

Blood rushed to her head, Rey’s vision spinning. Blinking furiously, she let her eyes adjust to the new vantage point, attempting to focus on Ben—specifically the button struggling to keep the garment together at the apex of his chest.

_Fuck_—he was secretly ripped wasn’t he?

Ben was quick to steady her, one hand resting on her waist and the other resting on her upper back. Rey continued to sway bit, yet with his help she was able to hang upside without swinging too much.

“I didn’t take into account you are a giant,” Rey muttered, face still relatively close to his chest. Letting her arms fall mercy to gravity, she let herself simply hang as Ben took a half step back. Ever the gentleman, Ben had the decency to brush away wisps from her face. Thankfully most of her hair rained tied back in their usual three buns. “How are we going to do this?”

“Do what?” Ben crouched down to the same level of her face. “I already told you I’m not going to kiss you.”

“I don’t want you to kiss me to _kiss me_,” Rey groaned. She adjusted her coat, the hem flopping down from her position. “We would be kissing for science—to find out if this upside down kiss is all it is cracked up to be.”

Tilting his head to the side, Ben tried his best to make eye contact. However, it was nearly impossible with her upside down and dangling like a monkey.

A quiet, faint snort escaped him. “It’s a _rain kiss_—which automatically makes it terrible and Peter and Mary-Jane a bad pairing.”

“Fandoms would have riots with a statement like that,” Rey pointed out warningly. “And I can’t control the elements and cause it to rain, so we can just test out this bit. Because for some reason people say this shit is iconic and I don’t fucking buy it.”

Ben sat back on his crouch, she greeted with a cocky—if not curious—grin. “You are really trying to butter me up; I mean, taking my side on the rain kiss argument—”

“I was _not_ taking your side,” she was quick to refute, reaching out a hand to his shoulder. His steady presence grounded her, Rey able to speak more confidently knowing Ben would be to there to catch her if she fell. “I am simply attempting to look at all the variables. And this particular kiss has an added element unlike any other.”

“The fact they are upside down?” Ben droned, his eyebrows knitting together tightly.

“Precisely.”

Eyeing her carefully, Ben sat up until he was kneeling in front of her. He grasped her lazily, hanging arms in an attempt to keep both she and him steady. Licking his lips, he gave a half shrug.

“Sure, I’ll kiss you,” he breathed.

His honey-brown eyes widened, as though realizing what he had just said and utter with quiet conviction. Rey could feel her own breath knocked out of her at the acceptance—though that easily could have been due to the fact she’d been hanging upside down for a number of minutes.

He coughed into his shoulder, clearing his throat, “I mean, _yes_ I’ll kiss you in the name of proving the _Spider-Man_ kiss is even more convoluted than necessary.”

* * *

They’d been sitting side by side in their usual spots when _it_ happened.

The tragic, and well-known, _Spider-Man_ origin story played out. Peter Parker walking on the opposite street when he witnesses the mugging of his uncle, the boy paralyzed and unable to do anything to prevent the reality before his eyes.

As Uncle Ben was gasping for breath, Rey felt a shift beside her. Popcorn was unceremoniously shoved on to her lap, nearly knocking over their sodas. Looking up from the mess, she barely caught sight of Ben high-tailing it out of the auditorium.

He even left behind his coat.

Never had Ben left in the middle of a movie, not even to use the restroom. The man knew how to hold himself together until the end. Easily she could recall the time he was getting over the flu and still remained seated during _Titanic_—which was a fucking long movie—only leaving to vomit after the credits.

Ben Solo did not leave in the middle of a film and the sight of him doing so was overwhelmingly alarming.

Stunned, Rey moved on autopilot; she grabbed his coat and ran after him.

She ignored the yelps of annoyance as she brushed past the few audience members in the auditorium (Mitaka wasn’t joking when he said more guests would come because it was a _Marvel_ movie) and shoved open the weathered, velvet double doors.

Searching the lobby frantically, she didn’t spot Ben right away. The few lingering tables by the concession stand were empty. Mitaka did not even bother to pay her any mind as he scrolled through his cell phone, unaware of her riled panic. Glancing through the entrance’s iron-copper and glass doors, she didn’t see her dark hair and massive companion lingering outside.

Turning the opposite direction, facing the closed off section of the theater, did Rey consider maybe he ventured off to sit in a dust old viewing room or entertainment area. While the front of the historic building was in operation, the majority of the rooms and auditorium were closed off, the spaces only rented out for events and the local community theater productions. Some locals believed the rest of the place was haunted, there needing to be a reason beyond ‘preservation’ to prevent others from roaming the rest of building.

Rey simply believed Maz didn’t want to go through all the trouble of restoration and refurbishing unless the city was going to pay for it. And the city _wasn’t_.

However as she stepped under the restricted access chain, she could understand the rumors of hauntings. Spiderwebs, dust, and a rather chocking smell of ‘_old’_ assaulted her senses. It was unlikely Ben ran off in this direction, yet it wouldn’t hurt to check.

Taking a few cautious steps forward, Rey considered turning back as it looked the area hadn’t been touched in months…

That is until she heard heavy breathing from the nearest alcove.

Rounding the corner, Rey found Ben crouched on the floor, head between his knees. Heavy breaths puffed in and out of him, a frantic succession he could not seem to control.

“Ben—”

“Please just leave me alone,” he croaked out, voice raspy and breaking. “Please—I’m fine. Just go back and watch the movie or—”

She dropped down beside him and grabbed his hand—the one he’d been squeezing for dear life in the other—and held on fiercely.

“The movie doesn’t matter. _You_ do.”

A dry sob edged out of him, Ben leaning into her presence.

In his struggle release of exhale and inhale, his forehead found a home on her shoulder.

With a delicate hand, she brushed away his hair and let him find his own grounding. Whether that be her, his thoughts, the terribly dingy corner…she let him find his center once more.

And patiently she waited.

* * *

"My dad died a couple of years back." He exhaled sharply. "Actually, it's the reason why I came back to this town. To be closer to my mom."

She felt the thud of his heartbeat and the rise-fall of his chest. If it were anyone else, she'd pull away, keep a respectable distance. But she didn't. Instead she peeked up at him, left ear pressed to his chest, and refused to let go. He held her closer, chin resting on her head.

"His death was my fault," Ben confessed quietly. "I was the one driving the car, upset and..." he swallowed.

Words did not need to said; she understood.

"I didn't know."

"No one really does."

"Well, I have a confession," Rey wiggled up from his grasp, meeting his solemn gaze. "I've seen _Spider-Man_ before."

His head snapped to her. "What?"

"Yeah."

"Really?" He uttered, not quite believing her.

"Yes! Just because I am not well versed in film doesn’t mean I've never seen _Spider-Man_."

When her roommate Finn discovered she'd never seen a Marvel film, he decided to rectify the situation, having her watch every single one he could get his hands on, including every single _Spider-Man_ known to man.

She bummed her shoulder with his, giving him an understanding yet playful smile. A way to lighten the mood. "So if you want to skip out on this one, we totally can."

“Yeah, I’d like that.” His voice was small despite his natural low tone. A large man, in body and voice, confined to the claustrophobic box of guilt.

He needed to let go, move forward from the guilt and grief that resurfaced and latched on to him with sharp claws. She didn’t need ask how many nights he spent awake turning the event of his father’s death over and over in his head until he understood every element of the situation. She could see the pain in his eyes, the night relived a multitude of times, enough to wear him down to an emotional numb. Ben’s eyes and face spoke louder than he ever knew, a window to his thoughts.

And while Rey could not be the savior to his guilt, she could be a friend. Or at the very least, get him mind off the matter for a couple of hours.

“Do want to go for a walk?”

* * *

Three—_She was patient…unless it’s about stupidity. Then she had little patience for stupidity. _

“Can you _not_ pucker your lips like that?” Ben whined. He regarded her from a safe distance a few inches away. “It is not as inviting as you think it is.”

She dropped the pucker to a less than patient frown. Squinting her eyes open, she found Ben giving her a matching expression. Well a matching expression if she’d been right side up. Another wave of nausea hit her. She snapped her eyes shut again. If she kept them open any longer, Rey was sure to get dizzy.

“I can only be upside down for so long before all the blood is in my head and not my toes, so _please_ take your time.”

Ben harrumphed at the snippy reply, pushing her a little.

Her entire body tensed as she swayed, her hands reaching back out to him frantically.

“Whoa! Don’t do that—I think I’ll vomit my lunch.”

“You’re lunch is already almost digested, so _no_. You’d vomit fluids. More than likely the soda you inhale like air.”

“Shut up,” she hissed. She breathed deeply through her nose, her panic easing off in waves. “Just kiss me damn it!”

He began to lean forward—only to pull away again. “Okay, I just need to make sure—you’ve had your first kiss before, right?”

“_Excuse me_?”

“It is a valid question considering you lived under a rock.”

“I did not live under a rock!” Her exasperated cry was met with knowing smirk. Wiggling her arm away, she lightly smacked his face. Nimble fingers collided with relatively plush lips and some scruff, Rey surprised by the softness of is skin. Moisturized and well groomed.

Apparently Ben had a good skincare regime. Go figure.

“Ow!”

For good measure, she honked his nose.

He caught her hands once more. “Stop being a brat!”

“Stop being stupid because I swear I am losing feeling in my legs—”

“The average person can hang upside down for ten minutes,” Ben waved off her concern, giving a good natured eyeroll. She wasn’t too sure if he was attempting to convince her or himself she’d be okay. More than likely himself, Ben a notorious worry-wart. “You’ve only been upside down for—” He checked his watch, before shoving the damn thing in her face, “—_three_.”

“First—how do you know that weird fact, you creep? Second, that does not reassure me!” Her arms flailed, nearly whacking Ben with a flying lame fist. Her face scrunched up as another question came to mind. “And you’ve been keeping the time?”

“Why wouldn’t I keep the time?” Ben countered. “I don’t want you passing out on me. Then I’d have to carry you around everywhere.”

“Oh, the agony of carrying me around,” she droned. She crossed her arms over her chest, closing her eyes once more. To say what she was going to say next required a bit of confidence and nonchalance she didn’t always possess on a whim. Not to mention it was sometimes easier to talk to Ben when she wasn’t staring directly at his face. His face far too often explicitly exposed his thoughts and Rey honestly didn’t need to see his reaction. “And to answer your original question…no.”

“As in ‘no, you haven’t…’” Ben trailed off.

Rey nodded once, not trusting herself to admit more than she already did.

“And you’re sure you want me to—”

“My god, yes! I wouldn’t have climbed up this damn thing otherwise!”

When she didn’t hear anything else for a moment, Rey realized she may have came on _too_ strong. Maybe a bit too demanding under the guise of kissing for the sake or science, or for ‘shits and giggles.’ But what else could she say? She did genuinely want to know if the upside down kiss was all it was cracked up to be, and Ben being the person she was kissing merely happened to be a matter of circumstance.

At least that’s what she told herself.

Just as she was just going to call it all off and ask Ben to help her down from the jungle gym dome, a hesitant hand grasped the back of her neck. Her breath stilled, suddenly feeling Ben far closer than he’d ever been before. Gently his thumb rubbed the base of her skull, she subtly shuddering at the touch. Oh, how she hoped the chill weather was a suitable enough excuse for her reaction.

“Um, I’m going to…” Ben’s voice was right in her sphere, she swore if she shifted the slightest, her nose would bump his. With all her might, Rey willed herself to not open her eyes. If she opened her eyes then maybe neither would have the nerve to do _it_.

And then his lips touched hers, faint at first. Gentle, with a vague sense of ill-experience. As though he were in the same boat as her. Then firm and sure, she holding him with just as much tenderness and desperation as him.

And she knew—

_Hell yeah_, the upside down kiss was legit shit.

* * *

Four-- _Kissing Ben Solo was probably one of the stupidest and best things she'd ever done. And she'd gladly do it again and again._

* * *

(One of them being upside down was stupid. Completely and utterly stupid.

And they did not realize this until Rey practical fell, only half paying attention to her surroundings—well more so the fact she need to continue to hold herself up in order to actually kiss Ben upside down.

Luckily, she only got some bruising on her left shoulder. Ben broke most of her fall.

The fall also did little to ruin the mood, their lips reunited after a clumsy fumble of limbs and playground woodchips.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well, well. That happened.
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments.


	7. Charles & Carrie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am finally giving what all of you have been begging for--BEN'S POV.
> 
> Typos will be fixed later.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**CHARLES & CARRIE**

Ben Solo had never been interested in romantic relationships.

Not even when all his college buddies started pairing off, getting married, and having families of their own.

Not even when his mother and father would drop hints in their monthly calls—all of which he let go to voicemail.

Not even when he was passed for a promotion at his law firm when the partners wanted to go with someone more ‘empathetic;’ also known as someone who had a wife, two-point-five children, and mortgage. Snoke & Associates bypassed him for some new guy, who happened to be a married man with a family, someone who’d ‘understand the emotional impact and integrity required with handling deaths and estate matters’.

At least that’s what Snoke claimed when Ben confronted him.

(As a cherry on top to being sidelined a promotion, he’d been reprimanded for questioning authority. He had never once done so, following his mentor with faith he’d be given partner once he paid his dues.

Yet as time passed by, that no longer seemed to be the case. Dragged from case to case as forever junior partner and second chair, to the high and mighty Snoke who’d keep him on a tight leash.

The new partner announcement caused some reevaluation. Especially on where he stood in the hierarchy of Snoke & Associates.

Ben took this time to cash in his vacation time and take a cross-country road trip to visit his parents.)

So when a girl with bright eyes and a stubborn streak decided to befriend him, Ben did not think too long and hard.

After all he was thirty-two, single, and dealing with a fractured relationship with his mother. He was still relatively ‘new’ to town—if someone who left his small hometown for a big city on the other side of the country and had recently moved back could be considered someone ‘new’—and had only reconnected with Poe Dameron, of all people.

(Poe Dameron had been his unofficial bully growing up. Friends by circumstance, enemies by natural selection. They went out for drinks on Sunday and watched the football game together. More so sat side by side and made jabs over the teams they hated because enemies bonding over _common enemies_ was the perfect foundation for any moot friendship.)

Needless to say, Ben did not have friends.

He couldn’t even count the local diner’s waitress, Rose Tico, as his friend because she left at the end of her shift while he continued to nurse his evening coffee alone.

But this girl—Rey Williams—was determined to be his friend just because.

(He soon realized she too was terrible at making friends. People seemed to collect her and add her to their circle, yet no one truly knew her.

But he did.)

* * *

"Hugh Grant is a legend in 1990s rom-coms," Ben explained as the old previews played before the film. He shifted in his seat, his knees bumping into the seat in front of him. "He technically plays the same type of character over and over, but still a legend."

"I've seen _Love, Actually_."

Ben's face contorted into disgust, ashen by this revelation. "That film is garbage. No plot, all commercial and pandering to those who thrive on celebrity."

Rey shrugged, slumping further down in her seat. "Well I liked it. Thought it was cute in a...Christmas-y way."

Ben's eyebrows jumped. "Wow. I thought you of all people would hate it."

"Why would I hate it?" Rey lulled her head to him, her cheek resting against his shoulder. "I sometimes genuinely enjoy convoluted stories, you know."

His eyes narrowed, not believing her. Rey had a habit of simply countering Ben for the sake of being a devil's advocate, to knock him down a peg or two. And while his suspicion was warranted, it didn't necessarily mean she was always countering his point to push him around. Sometimes she genuinely believed her argument...such as liking _Love, Actually_.

"I wish we were seeing _Notting Hill_," Ben muttered as the lights in the theater dimmed. "It is so much better than _Four Weddings and a Funeral_."

"I actually hate _Notting Hill_." Rey's blunt statement startled Ben. Clearly he did not expect her to be saturated in conviction on the film.

Affronted, he sat up and turned to face her fully. "What do you mean you don't like _Notting Hill_?"

"I mean, I…don't…like…_Notting Hill_," she articulated slowly. "It's not as good as everyone makes it and I can't stand Hugh Grant fumbling and bumbling over himself."

"Then you won't like _Four Weddings and a Funeral_."

"How will you know I won't like it?" Rey's eyes snapped to him warningly. "I could very well like it."

"You won't."

"I might."

"I highly doubt it."

"I _will_."

* * *

Their kiss did not change their relationship....too much.

They still met at 6:45 on Fridays for their movie night.

They still ordered the same popcorn and drinks, and debriefed the film over dinner.

Usually they'd go their opposite ways once it they argued until their faces turned blue, Ben making sure she got home safe.

Only now they'd somehow end up at his place because it didn’t make sense for her to go back when it was already three in the morning and his condo was closer. And maybe they'd make-out—amongst other things—or sometimes they'd just fall asleep together.

Which was a bit weird considering Ben had never slept beside anyone his entire adult life. Never felt compelled to do so, never had the opportunity with his lack of seduction skills or sexual drive.

He often wondered if it would be odd—uncomfortable, sweaty, awkward—to find someone else in such a close proximity.

(_Needy_.

He’d been a needy child. His mother told him enough times Ben almost always associated his childhood with the word.

Always vying for attention, for affection from parents who preferred to delegate their time to causes. Parent’s who’d give him hugs and kisses and then pry him away like he was a leech—

Bothersome, painful, a nuisance.

Maybe that’s why he chose to keep his distance from others. Because he didn’t want to be a second choice.

He wanted to be the first and only.)

Yet with Rey...it was nice.

To wake up and see her there, snoring softly against the pillow. Drool dripping out of her mouth. Lost to the world, but there for him to know, to see. To hold her in his arms, to feel the comfort of another body pressed to his.

To not be alone.

* * *

Watching Rey watch a film was a form of comedy never known to man until now.

She’d never been to the movie theaters growing up, so she never faced the humiliation of being shushed or silenced. Never pressured to swallow her reaction for the sake of others around her. Never told to keep her thoughts to herself.

“My god, it is like watching a jelly fish fight for its life,” Rey remarked to the empty auditorium. On screen, Charles stuffed himself into a wardrobe in an attempt to hide from the newlyweds. A scoff came from the back of Rey’s throat. “Like I said—_a jelly fish_.”

Ben muffled his snort behind his hand, remaining forward facing. However his eyes lingered on Rey—the way she kept her eyes stubborn glued to the screen, determined to prove him wrong. To prove she could fall in love with _Four Weddings and Funeral_ despite his insistence that she’d surely detest the film. How she’d hog the popcorn bucket and slurp her disgusting Cherry Coke obscenely loud, the hallow crackle echoing in the auditorium. Her toned and lithe legs were kicked up on the seat in front her, legs crossed; a semblance of modesty she rarely possessed. In fact, Ben was sure Rey didn’t know the difference between modesty and _im_modesty, she living in a world where none of those terms meant a thing and she operated on whatever was most comfortable for her and only her.

Any person with eyes and ears could discern Rey was text-book awful movie goer.

Part of him was tempted to correct her, teach her the proper movie theater patron etiquette.

Yet sitting there and witnessing her gasp and snarl in dismay and giggle with delight…how could he possibly reform _that_? It’d be like slaughtering an innocent creature, one who did not know better and was minding their own business.

And Ben wasn’t a murder, thank you very much.

* * *

Their meetings weren't confined to the weekends, but a random day here and there were they'd just grab dinner together or meet for coffee during a lunch break. Seeing each other beyond the unspoken boundaries they set. A certain edge of domesticity enter their lives, Ben realizing he was privileged to witness—to live in time with—a version of Rey no one else knew. Not even her roommate.

He’d see her at her most vulnerable, her most quiet, and her most thoughtful. Suddenly there seemed to be a vague line; a time before and time after the kiss. A version of Rey he knew before and a fleshed out version he knew after, all puzzle pieces he collected of the young woman falling into the place with each second spent together.

Not to mention, Ben learned things about Rey he felt he should have known during their friendship his picture of the woman expanding—

  * _How she liked going on morning runs_

“Can’t we just lay down longer?” Ben burrowed deeper in the duvet until just his eyes peeked out from under the covers. His hands grasped out to her, capturing her wrist as she wiggled further and further from his reach. “Please?

She grabbed his hand and place a firm, quick kiss to his knuckles. “As much as I’d love to—_no_.” And with that she’d climb out of the warm bed and get dressed in a pair of his old basketball shorts and a hoddie she left behind. She’d hum a vague yet pleasant tune as she tied up her shoes and then she’d be off, coming back a half hour later, sweaty and energized.

Ben didn’t understand the appeal of running in the morning, especially on Ach-To where it could rain at any moment and the mist was unforgiving to the naked eye. Rey, on the other hand, could never get enough of it.

“One of these days you should join me.” She’d make herself a proper cup of tea in his kitchen because she preferred tea in the morning rather than coffee, the latter for some reason more of an afternoon drink for her rather than the opposite.

“And one of these you’ll realize you are a bonkers for running in the cold and just join me at the local gym—like a logical person.”

Her grin wouldn’t faulter at the refute, but her eyes did dim.

He’d clear his throat, maneuvering around her in the kitchen to get his second serving of coffee (he couldn’t start the day until he had at least three; Rey choked on her own spit when he explained his less than mild caffeine addiction). “But yeah, maybe one day I will.”

And the brightness returned with an abundance.

Ben came to the startling realization, Rey was no longer a simple friend (if he was being perfectly honest, she’d been more for far longer than either would be comfortable admitting, far too humiliated for their stupidity) but a person he shared personal parts of his life with—a partner without a distinct label. Too intimate for a mere title of best friend, but far too mature for a title as juvenile as ‘girlfriend’.

Not that they’d ever discuss where exactly they fell in the relationship spectrum. Ben was ill-equip when it came to words and Rey had a lack of filter, their conversations were heated debate or soft, blush inducing jumbled mess of words. Yes, they had their natural banter, but natural banter could only go so far to fill the silence.

And that was another thing—

  * _Rey was talkative but she relished in silence._

Ben did not like silence. At all.

Maybe it was growing up as only child, often home alone and left to his own devices. Or maybe he just hated the thought of being lonely when he was alone, but he nine time out of ten had music or a movie playing somewhere in the house.

And Rey, without fail, shut off said music of movie once she realized he wasn’t actively listening to it.

“I was listening to that,” Ben would call out from which ever room he happened to be in—usually his home office.

“Oh, really? What song was it?” she’d call back, shuffling around the living room. Probably sitting down to get to work, Amilyn no doubt giving her a stack of manuscripts and drafts to read and tear apart.

“Uh…_Love Will Tear Us Apart_ by Joy Division?”

“It was _Lovesong_ by The Cure.”

“Well, I’d like it on.”

“Why? It’s a waste of energy and you aren’t even listening to it.”

Ben would swallow back any snippy reply, letting the matter go. Until she did it again. And again, because it needed to happened at least two dozens times before Ben realized Rey just preferred to work in silence and be in silence.

“Groups homes were always loud and I always had to share a singular space with at least another girl. One who never understood privacy,” she explained once when her past came up. A vague and lonely past, one she tried to shelve into the depths of her mind and not confront.

But Ben was all about confronting, even if it was for the wrong reasons.

Which led him to number three of traits-Ben-did-not-know-about-Rey—

  * _For someone who acted as though she knew who she was, where she came from, and where she’d be going…Rey was directionless. _

Far more directionless than anyone would think. After all, she was a young woman who essentially raised herself and worked herself to the bone to come to the States for her education. She was also a young woman who made connections and accomplished respected internships and found herself a well-paying job after graduation. She must have been doing something right.

Yet, Ben saw her.

Saw how she despised her work despite being sunshine and roses about it when ever someone asked—“_Oh, I love it. Really I do. Reading other people’s work, making it better. I’m great at fixing things_.”

Saw how she’d stare out the window longing, or sit on the balcony and watch the ocean. Fear and longing stretched from her gaze, she shrugging it off when Ben came to join her—“_I always loved the ocean. The waves and mist…it feels like it is calling to me sometimes.”_

Saw how she’d cry when the heroine got the ending she deserved, not the one the character desired at the end of the film—_she’d spare a quick glance at him, wiped away her tears hastily_.

And Ben wondered…

What did she want. What was it that made her happy, besides food and running and watching movies. Why did she look out to ocean with such heartbreak, as though she’d rather be anywhere than there with him. Why was she doing work she disliked and was content, as far as he knew, to be a copy-editor, when she evidently wanted to be _something else_. She spoke candidly about her life and emotions…but her darkest fears remained shut tight.

Just like his.

(One day she’d argue they were too different, had nothing in common. That maybe coming together was a mistake. He’d say they were too similar in the best and worst ways; but that’s what made _them_ worth it.)

Rey was wonderful, but Ben knew the last few months of their shifted companionship only highlighted the flaws and beauties of her—all of which he loved.

But it made him worry he wasn’t enough. And never would be enough for girl with the bright hazel eyes and stubborn streak. For a girl who wasn’t sure where she was going because without the structure of education and adrenaline for survival, Rey didn’t know herself.

But he did.

* * *

(Ben knew he loved her after their third movie.

They were watching _Dead Poet’s Society. _A favorite of his, but he kept this fact to himself more intrigued by this girl and what she’d think.

Her eyes never left the screen, enthralled with the story. A muted awe, a faint smile. A nostalgia in her eyes as familiar words of Shakespeare and Walt Whitman were recited. Tears cascaded in quiet freedom as the film finished its final act…

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt…this _way_,” she did not have the right words to express how she felt, waving her hands on front of her chest as a mere substitute for language, “about anything I’ve ever seen.”

He rested a hand on hers, hoping to bring comfort, knowing his own eyes were watery. The film knew how to pierce him oh-so gently and cruelly, yet Ben watched without hesitation each and every time. “Movies matter.”

She intertwined their hands, squeezing comfortingly. A warm understanding he’d never received until that very moment. “They really do.”

And then he knew there was no one else for him, but her.)

* * *

“See, Charles and Carrie got it right.” As the end credits rolled, Rey deep dived into their debriefing, latching on to the ending. “All their friends decide to get married, but they don’t. Smart. Plus I think you rain kiss theory does not win in this one.”

“Smart?” Ben echoed, ignoring the rest of her comment. His rain kiss theory was always correct, even if she didn't want to see what was right in front of her.

“Yeah,” Rey sat up, dropping her empty soda into the empty popcorn bucket. “Because getting married is…” she shook her head, “ridiculous. Don’t get me wrong, I like romance as much as the next person. I mean, _you_ know that, but,” Rey waved to the screen, “But getting married is _a lot.”_

“Well, it is committing yourself to another person forever,” he said, hoping his tone was lighter than he felt. That he wasn’t going to spur them into an argument. “It’s meant to be and mean a lot. That’s what sort of makes it romantic. Giving all yourself to someone."

“But it’s not necessary—it’s like owning someone and signing part of your life away,” Rey continued, barely registering his words. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I’d ever want to get married.”

Ben’s heart jump up his throat and then hit the depths of his gut. Her words an unforgiving rollercoaster he did not know he was on. An out of body experience as the words replayed over and over in his head on loop.

_She never wanted to get married._

Call him old fashioned and a silly romantic, but Ben wanted to get married. Eventually.

The idea was new to him as well.

He never thought much of it until her, thinking he was going to be single forever. Maybe adopt a kid to satisfy his desire to be a parent and to quell his mother’s badgering for grandchildren.

But once Rey came into the picture and their relationship moved in a direction he never thought would happen in a million years, the vision he had for his future changed—Rey was by his side through it all.

But apparently that wasn’t the case for her. 

“_Oh_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BEN.
> 
> OH REY.
> 
> Aren't POVs so much fun? XD So much unreliable narration! I love it.
> 
> Let me know what you think


	8. Holly & Paul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: ANGST IS STRONG IN THIS ONE.

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**HOLLY & PAUL**

“I don’t need to run these decisions by you!”

“Yes, _you do_!”

“No I don’t! I never needed to run any decision in my life by anyone! I am my own person, Ben!”

Rey began to gather her things—her laptop, coat, a couple of binders and notebooks she had spread out on the counter. He’s pretty sure she accidently grabbed some of his mail in her flurry.

“But when you are in a relationship with someone, you’re _supposed_ _to_ discuss major things together—like you know, fucking getting into a grad program out of state!”

She eyes snapped shut, her arms falling limp at her side. “I haven’t accepted yet—”

“But you didn’t even mentioned you applied—”

“Because I thought I wouldn’t get in!”

“Of course you’d fucking get in, Rey!” Ben tossed the kitchen towel in the sink, needing to do something—anything—with his hands. “The school would be idiots to reject you—because you’re _you_!”

She scoffed into an empty laugh, blinking furiously. “What does that _even_ mean?”

“You are real—and, and authentic and have a way of communicating on paper that is distinctly you—”

Rey recoiled, either stunned with elation or displeasure. Ben could not decipher her guarded hazel eyes. “You’ve actually read my stuff? Those short stories I gave you?”

“Of course I did,” he shrugged haplessly, “why wouldn’t I?”

Rey swallowed tightly, eyes darting from him to the door. Her jaw worked for answer, but she fell empty.

Finally, with a tired sigh she said, “I just assumed you wouldn’t care.”

* * *

She shouldn’t have been surprised when he showed up.

Ben never failed to show up for a movie at _The Castel_ on a Friday night. Their argument, better yet screaming match, a few days prior would not hinder him to the point he’d become a permanent recluse.

Immediately, he spotted her“, sitting in their usual seats. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as he came closer, walking down the row to his regular seat. His arms were laden with buttery popcorn and a Coke, no Red Vines in sight. An understandable decision—Ben hated she bought the candy at the concessions, believing the prices to be too high for a package he could purchase at the dollar store.

“I didn’t think you’d show up.”

Rey slurped her soda, keeping her eyes trained ahead. Only ads for local restaurants and events played on the screen. “It’s movie night.”

Ben shifted foot to foot, glancing around the empty auditorium. Looking for an escape—an escape from her. “But—”

“Just because I am upset with you doesn’t mean I am going to skip out on movie night.”

“_Right_,” he breathed with an edge of reluctance. Surveying the auditorium once more, Ben decided to ultimately sit next to her. A relief in Rey’s opinion; if he sat anywhere else she’d be craning her neck to catch a glimpse of him—see if he was miserable like her or able to let it go and enjoy the movie.

As he got comfortable, the house lights dimmed, the opening credits for _Breakfast At Tiffany’s_ on the screen.

* * *

"What have I ever done to make you think I don't care?"

"I-I don't know," she confessed, barely stringing words together. "You just—you just seem to always be off in your own world. Thinking, working and brooding. I just assumed you didn’t have time for me except for the allotted time you give."

Ben’s heart crumpled at her words; did she honestly think he didn’t have time for her? If he could, he’s choose to spend all his time with her. Be by her side to simply be. Maybe that was clingy, but it was the truth.

And what she was saying was in no way his intention. "That's not true—"

"It is,” she blinked, tears at bay finally released, “It really is, Ben."

"We are together all the time."

"_Yeah_, sure we are," Rey spat, hugging her coat and satchel closer to her chest. As though hugging herself would bring comfort to her uncomfortable situation. All Ben wanted to do was pry her arms free and hold her, whisper how her anxious thoughts were not true—they could not be true.

Yet he did not move, staying behind the kitchen counter.

He feared if he moved closer, she’d leave. If he begged her to calm down—to stop yelling—she’d walk right out the door.

“We spend so much time watching movies and debating about them. But I'm sorry that's not enough for a relationship, Ben!"

"Because we love watching them together, we _love_ doing that—"

"I'm not saying we don't...I just want more than that. More than films being the reason we are together." Rey chewed her lips together, a flash of regret in her eyes. “I lo—_care_ about you. A lot. But sometimes I feel like the only safe way into a conversation with you is through movies. Relating them to your life. If I try to bring up anything else on its own—work, your mum, your dad, _whatever else_—you clam up.”

Ben floundered. He thought he was an open book—someone who can be read easily. At least, that’s what his parents and mentors told him growing up. He wore his heart on his sleeve. Apparently that wasn’t the case when it came to Rey.

“Because…because it’s difficult to talk about. You know that about me,” he insisted. A frantic hand ran through his hair, Ben attempting to calm himself down.

“And I get that…I do,” Rey stepped forward, her arms around her belongings loosening as tension rolled off her shoulders. “But you should be able to talk to me about it. If anyone understands what it feels like to be abandoned and lonely it’s me and yet…” she shook her head, “it’s like you are afraid to get that close. To actually let me see more of you, instead these glimpses I get!”

“You do the exact same thing,” he shot back before he processed what was flying out of his mouth, “you expect me to be close to you, like you said—_but you don’t tell me_ _anything_!”

* * *

They watched _Breakfast At Tiffany's_ together three weeks earlier before the classic poster of Audrey Hepburn was placed by _The Castel_ ticket booth.

Curled up together in his living room, they sat with their stomachs stuffed with pasta from the Italian bistro downtown and a massive thick fleece over their laps.

As a first, Rey suggested the film.

“I’ve always heard people rave about it, but I honestly have no idea what it’s about.” She shrugged helplessly, wiggling in his arms to face his fully to express her concerns. “Who is Tiffany? Why do the character’s have breakfast at her place?”

A side splitting laugh coursed through Ben, he unable to chuckle at her ignorance on the film.

She smacked him with a throw pillow, effectively causing Ben to fumble into more laughter.

“_Tiffany’s_ is an famous jewelry retailer and honestly has little to do with the film besides the opening,” Ben explained between breaths. “‘Tiffany’ is not an actual character.”

“Ah,” she nodded slowly, “I see. That still doesn’t make sense though.”

Luckily while watching the film, things within the story regarding the title clicked for Rey.

And to Ben’s shock, Rey enjoyed the film despite her few mutterings about Holly Golightly, specifically about how her selfishness and frivolous tendencies were oddly charming in an infuriating way.

_Paul turned to Holly, she looking away. “Holly, I’m in love with you.”_

_“So what?”_

_“‘So what?’ So plenty. I love you. You belong to me.”_

_“No. People don’t belong to people.”_

_“Of course they do.”_

The argument unfolded on the screen, Rey and Ben watching silently as Paul pleaded for Holly to understand. For her to understand he loved her despite she refusing to see it, only focusing on pushing herself further and further away from him.

Yet the spell of the film was broken when an indignant gasp came from Rey. An understandable reaction considering Holly threw the cat out of cab.

“She threw out the cat!” Rey cried out, leaning heavily into his side. “Why would she throw out the cat!”

“Because she is upset,” Ben said as though it were obvious.

“What did Cat ever do to her?” she grumbled watching as Paul went looking for the cat. “The poor thing is just caught in the middle of the argument. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You are more focused on the fact the cat is thrown out than the fact Paul basically proposed to Holly?” Ben asked, nudging her away so he could see her face. Her forehead creased in annoyance, he disturbing her comfortable position. “Do you not understand what is happening? Paul finally confessed his feelings!”

“And she is going to run after him,” Rey supplied readily, motioning to the screen.

Holly did just that; she ran after Paul. Called out for Cat. Found Cat and then…

A rain kiss.

“Huh.” Rey hummed, a faint smile on her lips. With a knowing glint in her eyes, she leaned back against his chest. “So where do they fall? A bad pairing, Paul and Holly?”

“Oh, they are the exception to the rule,” Ben answered, still watching as the finale music swelled through the speakers. He glanced down at her, gently brushing away a stray hair from her face. “Paul and Holly are meant for each other.”

“Really?” Her eyes narrowed, lips pursed as she carefully considered her next mode of action. No doubt attempting to find an argument to be devil’s advocate.

“What do you think?”

A quiet hum radiated from her, making him wait in anticipation. “I think…I _agree_. Holly and Paul are perfect for each other. She teaches him how to have fun, he teaches her how to be grounded. They are the best versions of themselves when they are together.”

Ben’s eyes were no longer on the screen, but on Rey. How her hair was in a sloppy bun. How she chewed on her lower lip while deep in thought. How she fit nice next to him.

“Yeah, they are,” he absentmindedly fiddled with the edge of the blanket by her shoulder, “and storyline-wise it makes sense. It’s not thrown in for the sake of throwing it in. The rain kiss is a confession. It serves a purpose.”

The twinkle in her hazel eyes dimmed as he explained the reasoning. “Right…it just makes sense. Not the fact it feels right or the fact they are a good couple.”

“Right,” Ben nodded once, reaching for the remote.

“You know, you don’t need to defend what you think about movies all the time right?” Rey said carefully, starting to fold up the blanket surrounding them. “You can just like something because…well, because you like it. Even if it doesn’t fit into your theories.”

Ben frowned; he never thought he could just like something just because. Every thought had a reason, it was just taking the time to think and find it. “But what’s the fun of that?”

Rey shrugged, putting the blanket on the end of the couch. “Okay…I just wanted you to know you don’t need to defend everything to me. Sometimes I do agree.”

“I know.”

* * *

"We have nothing in common, Ben!"

"We do, we do—you're just—"

"Did you know I want to travel?" Rey asked, tossing her things back down. Swiftly, she rounded the counter, now less than a few feet away from him. Facing head on and cornering him by the kitchen sink, eyes ablaze in green and light brown. "See the world beyond my hometown. See the world beyond this little town by the sea. I _want_ to leave, but you...you want to stay."

Ben recoiled, not expecting the blunt accusation and the shame she attempted to bestow on him. "Of course, my life is here!"

"What life?" She shook her head, her heartbreak crawling from the inside out. "You mean your job and the mother you never visit because then yeah, your life is _here_."

He worked his jaw, hand clenching on the counter behind him. He rarely spoke to Rey about his mother, knowing deep down she’d push him to visit more often. Push him to be a better son. Push him to try to mend a relationship he wasn’t too sure he was ready to mend because it meant reliving some hurt all over again. "I do visit her and I have obligations here."

She gapped at him, before looking down. Unable to face him as he lied to himself. "No, you _don't_, not really. You can do whatever you want and yet you hermit yourself away with movies. Movies you've seen thousands of times to feel better about yourself!"

"You don't get it," Ben exhaled, feeling anger pulsating through him. She was shoving truths he didn’t need nor want to hear. Ones he knew but liked to ignore because he just wanted to make life easier in the moment, rather than the long run because he never truly thought long term until Rey stepped into his life. "I have to be here. I have to be here just in case anything happens to my mom because—because—"

He didn’t want the same thing to happen with her as did Han. He being away, living his own life, only to have his father die without notice.

"You need to stop atoning for sins you no longer have. Or else you'll just be living in the past."

* * *

Rey wasn’t too sure why she was crying.

She’d seen this scene more than a few times, watching the film on Netflix a few times after she watched it with Ben. It became background noise as she did laundry or picked up around her apartment. She usually wasn’t one for background noise—that was Ben, he loved to always have something playing in the background—but something about the movie…she could stop what she was doing and watch and wanted to watch. She’d never been this way with a movie or really _anything_ before. An odd but comforting realization.

Yet watching it now. Ben beside her, she not having spoken to him in a week…her eyes immediately welled as Holly and Paul sat together in the taxi, the rain pouring down.

_“I’m never going to let anyone put me in cage.”_

_“I don’t want to put you in a cage. I want to love you.”_

A heavy exhaled sob rattled through her, Rey’s chest shuddering as she attempted to gather her bearings. Hot tear pulled down her cheek, meeting at her chin, dripping on to her lap as she made no move to wipe them.

_“It’s the same thing.”_

_“No it’s not. Holly—”_

_“I’m not Holly, I’m not Lula May either. I don’t know who I am. I’m like Cat at here. A couple of no name slobs who belong to no one, we don’t even belong to each other.”_

She felt a nudge at the back of her hand.

It was _his_ hand. Large, yet tend. As always.

A scratch of tissue on her skin.

Opening her palm, the tissue was placed in her hand.

She crumpled it, the tissue absorbing the sweat from her clammy palms.

_In the pouring rain, Holly and Paul leaned in—_

Rey slammed her eyes shut. Blindly, she grabbed her empty Cherry Coke, her half eaten popcorn, and her purse. Cracking her eyes open, she kept her gaze trained on the floor and walked out of the auditorium.

She knew the ending. No need to see it again.

Rey didn’t want to sit there when the lights went back up, Ben and her next to each other in the bright light, both cheeks tear stained from crying. Because he cried too, unable to hold back sniffles as they reached the ending.

And Rey hated to see him cry knowing she was the cause.

* * *

“Rey!” Ben called out, racing after her. He followed her out the auditorium, feet stumbling over each other as he attempted to catch up. “Rey, slow down!”

“Go home, Ben!” she yelled back, not bothering to glance back. With a shove, she pushed open _The Castel’s_ main entrance and went out in the late night chill.

Ben caught the door before it slammed after her. A few quick steps and he was cutting off her path. “No—seriously wait up, we need to talk!”

Her gaze remained on the sidewalk, Rey picking up pace. “No, we don’t. I don’t want to talk right now—”

“I’m Holly,” Ben announced, arms flopping to his side. He heaved, hands resting on his knees as he stared up at her, honey-brown eyes pleading for her to understand.

Rey’s feet stuttered to a stop. Her eyes locked on him in a withering stare that could turn anyone to stone if she so willed. “_Excuse me_?

He stood up, tall and sure. “I’m Holly, Rey. Don’t you get it?”

Biting her lower lip, she shook her head. “No, I don’t, Ben. Because you sound bitshit right now, half out of breath and saying you’re ‘Holly’.”

“I’m—I’m Holly Golightly in _Breakfast At Tiffany’s_!” His exclamation caused a few stares, yet Ben did not care, his focus on Rey and only Rey. “Holly keeps running from her past and wants to make a new version of herself because she wants to be free. That is her way of being free, but it’s a cage.”

“Yes, Ben. I _know_,” Rey hissed, hugging herself tighter. “I was in the same damn theater as you watching the same movie.”

Ben ran his hands through his hair repeatedly, his frustration rising with each passing second. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “I’m like Holly. I am running away from my past because I don’t want to face it and move on. I think I’m free but I’m in a cage. And—and—and you’re my Paul!”

Rey groaned, face dropping into her palms.

All other words ceased from Ben, he watching her with rapt attention.

“I don’t want to be Paul,” she declared, gradually raising her face from her hands. Eyes red and face wet from rebel tears, an empty laugh huffed out of her. Tired and exhausted. “And I don’t want you to be Holly. Or-or—for you to be, I don’t fucking know—Professor Bhaer and me, Jo! Or Charles and Carrie, or Noah and Allie! I don’t even fucking want to be Lizzie and Darcy, Ben! I don’t want us to be _any of them_, okay?” Furiously, she wiped her face with her fingers, arms dropping back to her side once she realized it was a futile gesture. “I just want to be Rey and Ben. Is that too hard to ask for? For us to have our own story and not live vicariously through these stories?”

Ben opened his mouth…only to realize he didn’t have an answer.

“That’s what I thought.” Hands tucked into her jacket pockets, she dug her toe into the ground. “I just…I just want to let you know I took the offer. I’ll be moving to Washington in a few weeks so I can get settled before the semester starts. You know…finding a second job and whatnot.”

His heart sank to the floor. “So…you’re really leaving?”

“Yeah,” she bit out, her voice caught in her throat. “I always wanted this…and as much as I,” she took a deep breath, “as much as I care about you, you obviously don’t want me to go or come with me based off of your reaction a few nights ago.”

“Rey, I—”

She held a hand up. “I’m not done,” she cleared her throat before continuing, “I just want to let you know even though you aggravate the shit out of me to the point it is insufferable yet somehow cute, and you have more opinions than strands of hair on your precious head, and I sometimes feel you are simultaneously the stupidest and smartest person I have ever know…you are the only person I’d ever want to belong to.”

* * *

(Dear reader, Rey left Ahch-To for Seattle, Washington in a month’s time.

_Alone_.

But let us remember, Ben Solo was a romantic at heart. And Seattle, Washington rains roughly one-hundred and fifty two days a year.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter....any guesses over what the chapter title may be?
> 
> And yes, Rey does know she is partially in the wrong. But she is a stubborn one and is the one pulling a Holly by trying to push Ben away.


	9. Rey & Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE LAST CHAPTER. SOME ANGST. SOME UNDERSTANDING. SOME SWEETNESS!
> 
> Typos will be fixed later!
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE**

**REY & BEN**

“Dear, can you pass me the sugar?”

Ben grabbed a couple of sugar packets sitting at the end of the table, placing them in front of his mother. She shook them out, making sure all the sugar fell to the bottom and not sticking to the sides of the paper packet. A little habit she had for as long as Ben could remember. Naturally, his mother with her obligations and ridiculous schedules, had a caffeine addiction.

Of course, Ben inherited such a tendency from her.

_ “You have your father’s heart and your mother’s work ethic. A deadly combination,” Uncle Luke would joke, earning a glare from a teenage Ben. _

Leia Organa Solo, a former politician and well-known public figure of a would-be princess was seamlessly able to blend in his favorite diner. Part of Ben expected her to dress in her old suits, the warm burgundies and pinstriped browns her favorite out her collection. And the only attire Ben was able to associate with his mother, even when he dug through the depths of his memory.

He often wondered if he told Rey this what it would say about his relationship with his mother.

Instead, his mother was wearing duck-boots, a large, clunky dark green sweater and sweatpants. Her hair was pulled into a crown braid, the simplest style Ben had ever seen adorned on her head. She looked like any other local, as she technically was one at this point despite never coming into downtown, and no one spared her another glance.

Drab but happy. Retirement suited her well.

Their coffee wasn’t at their table yet, Ben waving Rose off so she handle the early morning rush. He was a regular, waiting a bit for his breakfast wouldn’t bother him.

“Son, not that I don’t love spending time with you,” Leia began, laying out her four sugar packets in a neat row, “but is there a reason why you decided to call me for breakfast?”

Ben opened his mouth, willing sound to come out, yet a faint ‘_eh’_ was uttered instead.

Leia winced at his pained expression. “I swear, you are becoming more like your father every day.” She dug into her purse, pulling out a glasses case. With an elegance only his mother could possesses, she placed the thin framed reading glasses on the slop of her nose and picked up a menu. “Have you been here before? Are their flapjacks any good—or their omelets?”

“Their French toast is pretty great,” Ben suggested, fiddling with his menu. He already knew what he wanted to order, since he ordered the same thing all the time.

Rey would tease him endlessly about it—_“Why? You have an assortment of choices and we come here all the time? Why not just try everything at least once? What’s the harm in a little adventure.”_

With a huff, Ben picked up the menu and scanned the items, looking for something he’d never try. And maybe if he convinced himself hard enough, he’d get it. For Rey’s sake.

“Hmm, I think you’re right,” Leia muttered, flipping the laminated page. “Your father loved this place, would sometimes bring me some to-go. Always something different.” A full chuckle escaped her, she shaking her head a little at a memory Ben could not see. “I think it was your father’s personal mission to try everything on the menu at least once.”

“Huh, that’s an endeavor,” Ben mumbled. It did sound like something Han Solo would do for no one’s satisfaction, but his own.

“One time he came back home with a lobster bisque—and I firmly believe one shouldn’t order the lobster bisque from diners because well,” she shrugged.

Ben understood the unspoken rule. “Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Why would someone do that? Screw living in a fishing town.” He was positive Rey had tried the lobster bisque at one point for shits and giggles and ended up hating it. But more so she hating the taste of lobster than actually hating the dish.

“Exactly,” Leia nodded, “but your father didn’t understand that and got a full serving. Surprisingly it was _good_.”

“Alright, sorry about the wait,” Rose greeted the two with a chipper smile. She flipped over their mugs and filled coffee to the brim, before setting the pot down and pulling out her notepad. “What can I get—” she looked up, faltering slightly, “oh, no Rey today, Ben?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ben coughed, feeling the impetrating gaze of his mother, “she’s actually going to grad school up north. Left last night.”

Rose’s grin formed into a pitiful smile. She patted his shoulder with her free hand. “Ah, I see. Well I’m sure if anyone can do the long distance thing, it’s you two.” She glanced back at Leia, possibly seeing the resemblance between the two. “He has a sweetest girlfriend and they are probably the cutest thing on this planet, but you probably already know that,” she waved off, not noticing Leia’s pursed lips and working mind. Rose clicked her pen open, ready to take their orders. “Alright, Ben your usual?”

“Um, actually I think I might get the…western omelet,” Ben corrected, handing off the menu.

Rose nodded, adding the item. “And for you?”

“French toast, please,” Leia supplied, handing off her menu. Her eyes remained fixed on Ben, a sternness under her gaze that made him squirm like a kid.

The girl ambled off with assurance she’d get their orders in right away. Thankfully.

Silently, Leia tore open each sugar packet and dumped their contents into her mug. “So…who is this Rey?”

“My sort of girlfriend.”

“She either is or isn’t. There is no such thing as ‘sort of’ in relationships,” Leia scolded lightly, stirring her coffee. “So she’s your girlfriend.”

“She _was_,” Ben corrected reluctantly, “we sort of broke-up. And before you say it, it wasn’t every clear if we did or we didn’t because we were both very upset and mad and…neither one of us said it was over so…”

He shrugged.

“But she moved?” Leia asked her stirring coming to a halt.

“Yes.”

“So you two _did_ break-up.”

Ben groaned, dropping his head against the table. “Please don’t say it like that.”

“Son, don’t be dramatic—face the facts and you’ll know what to do.”

Ben glanced up at her, unamused. “You make it sound like finding the answer is simple.”

“The answer is simple if you love her,” his mother said bluntly, taking a sip of her coffee. Her shoulders relaxed once the caffeine was in her system. “Do you love her, Ben?”

He didn’t need to think long and hard on the question. He knew the answer the moment Rey walked away from him that night after _Breakfast At Tiffany’s_.

“Of course I do,” Ben blurted out, slumping back against his seat. “She is the best and worst person I know. She’s my best friend! And she’s not here and hasn’t talked to me in weeks and it feels like someone is repeatedly stabbing me in the chest every single time I think a little about her. Like how she is willing to try anything once or how she has all this hope in her that just doesn’t makes sense for someone with her past and how she is so witty and knows how to shut me up—”

“And you _do_ need that, desperately. What your mouth says doesn’t always match your brain,” Leia interjected before he could work himself up any further. “So what did you do to screw up this seemingly perfect relationship?”

“I…I pushed her away, subconsciously,” Ben confessed, “and she pushed me away, intentionally.” He picked up a half-and-half creamer, needing something to be in his hands. “It got serious, _fast_.”

“How fast?”

“We were friends for almost two years…and we have only been more than friends for, maybe, four months.” He rubbed his eyes, exhausted by merely thinking over it. “And I knew I wanted to marry her within the first week.”

“Of dating?”

“Of knowing her.”

Leia’s eyes widened. “Wow…Son, that is…that is quite a bit to take in. To be honest, I thought you were not going to marry anyone, or give love a chance. That maybe Han and I…” she sighed, hands cupping her mug tightly, “that maybe Han and I screwed you up. Especially in the love department. We weren’t the best parents or the best examples of love—I can say that now that I’ve had time to…to truly ruminate on our relationship.”

Ben swallowed, sensing the apprehension and faint shame over his mother’s shoulders. He understood she tried her best when she could, and maybe her best wasn’t enough. A harsh truth to acknowledge, years later.

“So what are you going to do, Ben?”

He tossed the half-and-half aside, hands planted on the table top. “What can I do? She left. What is the saying—‘if you love something, set it free’? I mean isn’t that what Joe Bradley does for Princess Ann—let’s her go off to be the Princess she is, despite wanting to love her and be with her?”

“Oh my god!” Leia slammed her spoon on the table, garnering attention from the patrons sitting near them. “Oh my dear god, Benjamin!”

“Mom—”

“You are relying on a silly film made in the fifties to _guide_ your love life?” She stared up at the heavens, attempting to regulate her breathing. “I should have _never_ shown you that film,” she muttered.

“No, I just—” Ben huffed, hands clasping and unclasping together, “I just—my mind always goes back to _Roman Holiday_ because it is the greatest love story ever told! The serendipity of it all, the fact they would have been perfect together if they could be together. That a great love can happen once and—”

“Shut up, Ben. I need you to _shut up_,” she insisted, with a firm hand up. Shaking her head, Leia raised a hand out to Rose to get her attention. The girl hurried over, Leia clutching the young woman’s arm. “I need the strongest drink you have here—”

“Mom—”

“Um, that might be a mimosa? We don’t really sell alcoholic drinks here.”

“That’s fine. Bring that—bring two!” Leia ushered the girl off, Rose following the order in stride. Once the girl was gone, Leia turned back to Ben, he attempting to sink to floor and become one with the ground in his embarrassment. “Son, you are an idiot.”

This was not the first time Leia had called him an idiot, but it was the first time she said it in at least a decade so maybe it meant something more than it had before. “I’m just telling you the truth. I love her, so I got to let her go—”

“No, no, no,” Leia shook her head. Reaching over the table, she grasped Ben’s hands in her own. He felt the wrinkles on her skin, a first for him. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did, Ben.”

“What do you mean?”

“I loved your father,” Leia began, squeezing Ben’s hands for dear life. “I loved him so much, I felt all I could do was let him go off on his adventures. I never thought I could go with him, and once we have you…well I used you as another excuse. I didn’t force him to stay and I never asked if I—_if we_—could come along. I just thought…” she sighed, a shakiness to her firm and fiery voice, “I just thought my love wasn’t enough for him and let him go.” She sniffled, attempting to remain composed. “Because I loved him and I thought that was the right thing. I couldn’t keep him caged…but I realize now, he always wanted us with him, he just didn’t know how to say it. Because he wasn’t brave like that, but _I was_ and I didn’t do it because _I_ was an idiot.”

Ben was at a loss for words, only able to hold his mother’s hand longer and tighter. A lifeline of understanding.

She rubbed a soothing circle on the back of his hand, like she did when he was young and scared of the dark. Except now he was older and afraid to make the biggest decision of his life.

“Your Rey,” Leia said softly, caressing the name as though Rey were her own child, “sounds like a brave girl. Like a tough one. Someone to push your buttons in the right way.”

“She is,” Ben supplied quietly, forcing himself to met his mother’s eyes.

“But it also sounds like she’s been hurt, a lot.”

“She has,” Ben choked out.

“Don’t add yourself to that list,” Leia ordered, her brown eyes meeting his own brown eyes. Mirror images of each other. “Neither of you deserve that.”

* * *

(Sitting with him mother, she reminiscing on Han and her love for her late husband, Ben realized his theory on romance films was wrong.

Rey was right about Allie and Noah. And Jo and Professor Bhaer. And Robert and Giselle.

She was right about _all_ of them. They were all perfect pairs… because they completed each other. Each couple brought out the best and worst in their partner.

There was no formula for the perfect couple because each one was different.

And maybe _Roman Holiday_ wasn’t the best film to make the control to his theory. The film left such a strong impression on his young mind, he never realized how it could harm him in the long run.

Making him believe he had to let go of his great love because he was undeserving of it.)

\--

“Fuck,” Rey grumbled, digging through her suitcase. “Where the hell is it?”

Packing had been hectic, Rey rushing through the process and choosing the first apartment somewhat within her budget and not entirely run down. Naturally, she forgot a few items here and there. Like appliances or maybe a book or two. The latter Finn could ship out, and the former…well she was due for a new coffee pot.

But forgetting her rain coat was a dumbass move. Especially when she now lived in Seattle, Washington. Where it never seemed to stop raining.

Sure her umbrella did okay and her peacoat kept her warm, but a rain coat was ideal.

Marching over to her other suitcase, one she was positive it wasn’t in, Rey unzipped with more aggression than necessary. Flipping it open she was met with socks, underwear, and pajamas.

No rain coat.

“I swear I thought—” her words died in her throat.

She knew exactly where her rain coat happened to be.

Hanging by the door in Ben’s condo.

“Well, shit,” she huffed, flopping on the floor of her small apartment. No bedroom, one bath, and a kitchenette and a compact washer and dryer. A win…sort of, but it was in her budget and walking distance from the university. And that’s all that mattered.

Her stomach growled, Rey once again reminded she needed to go grocery shopping.

But she also didn’t have pots and pans, which meant digging a little into her hidden money stash and eating somewhere to hold her over until she decided to shop. Not that she minded…walking around and getting comfortable with the area was one of the reasons she decided to leave early…

And not because she was pushing Ben away. Nope.

Not at all.

Standing up, she grabbed her sash purse, coat, and umbrella. Bundling up, she locked up her apartment and went out into the sprinkling rain. Rain droplets had a way of sweeping by the umbrella, smattering her face as she trekked through the cool air. And while she usually liked the rain all she could thing about was Ben’s stupid theory.

It didn’t help she saw at least three couples kissing under the rain on her walk, only outside for a total of ten minutes. Maybe the universe hated her and wanted to torment her. Ignoring another couple walking down the street together, she pushed on ahead, making a crosswalk before the light turned red. Rey knew there was a coffee shop down the street that sold breakfast sandwiches down the street, she able to hit two birds with one stone.

Reaching the coffee shop, _Canto Coffee & Co._, Rey threw open the door and shook off the rain from her umbrella.

“Hey there,” the barista, Jannah greeted, “nice to see you stop by again—Rey, right?”

“Right,” Rey grinned, stepping up to the counter. “Surprised you remembered.”

“Well, you’ve stopped by three days in a row. Not to mention it’s not every day you met a girl named Rey with an E,” Jannah joked, “Same as yesterday—egg and spinach sandwich and caramel latte?”

Part of her wanted to get something else, like she always did when she mentally decided she’d become a regular at any coffeeshop or restaurant. Ben found it irritating, never able to order for her when she walked away for a moment or needed to use the restroom.

But she also missed the comforts for home…home being Ben.

_ “You know what you are going to get when you have a usual,” he would insist. “No surprises and a comfort knowing it is going to make you feel good because it made you feel good the last time. It just makes sense. Why fix something that is not broken?” _

“Yeah, the same,” Rey finally said, digging for her wallet. “You can just make it my usual. I have a feeling I’ll be stopping by more often.”

“Right on it,” Jannah typed in the order, ringing up Rey’s total. “By the way, the guy sitting in the corner has not been able to stop looking at you since you came in and it is both adorable and terrifying in a hot way.”

“What?” Rey snorted, ducking her head lower. No need to look, she’d only make the situation more awkward than necessary. She was never one to notice if someone was watching her in a…prospecting way. She was aware, but not aware of anything like _that_.

Plus, she had Ben.

Sort of.

“He’s tall and broody,” Jannah continued, “I’d say talk to him. You never know…” the woman teased.

Rey floundered, handing over her debit card. “Ah—_no_. No, I have a boyfriend. Back at home.”

“Well, you better tell that to broody because he is making his way over here.”

“Rey—”

She knew that voice.

Deep, warm, awkward, yet sweet.

She whirled around, mouth dropping at the sight of him.

Dark hair wet from the rain, a carry-on by his feet, and windbreaker dripping water on to the floor.

“Ben,” she uttered, unable to look away.

Bashful, determined honey-brown eyes met her own. He licked his lips, running a free hand through his hair. “Uh, hi.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, mentally bashing herself for sounding breathy. But she couldn’t help it; never did she think she’d find Ben standing across from her in a coffeeshop in the Seattle, sopping wet.

“Um, I decided to follow you,” he confessed quietly, the hand gripping his carry-on tightening.

“_Ben Solo_!” the other barista called out by the pick up counter. “Large double shot black for Ben Solo!”

“And get coffee,” Ben added, nodding to the counter. “I’ve been up for almost twenty-four hours so…” he shrugged.

“You are a caffeine addict,” Rey muttered, hugging herself tighter.

“_Ben Solo_!” His order was called out again.

“I’m gonna go,” he motioned behind him, “get that.”

“Sure,” she nodded sharply, watching him walk to the other side of the large counter.

“Oh,” Jannah breathed, “_he’s_ the boyfriend. That’s a rom-com in the making right there.”

Rey’s eyes snapped shut, rubbing the space between her brows. “You have no idea.”

* * *

“When was the last time you slept?”

“Through the night or shutting my eyes and willing myself to sleep an hour or two?”

“Both?”

“Not since you left my place upset. Barely get an hour or two otherwise,” Ben admitted, sipping his coffee cautiously. He hummed in surprise. “That’s actually pretty good.”

She crumpled a napkin, fiddling with the brown paper. “They have good lattes. Well, a caramel latte. I haven’t tried the other one’s yet.”

He raised an eyebrow in question, but didn’t comment further. “I’ve been up for the last twenty-four hours because I was packing and traveling—”

“It took you hours to pack one carry-on?” she quipped, a bit teasingly.

“It took me hours to pack my condo.”

Her eyes snapped to him, her heart stilling. “What?”

“Well, partially,” he clarified, eyes down cast on the table top. “Personal things I’d rather not let my mom pack, like my clothes and documents and movies. But she’s taking care of everything else.”

“Why…” she inhaled shakily, telling herself to not be wishful, “…why would you need to pack up your condo?”

His hand found hers, intertwining their fingers. “Why would I live anywhere you aren’t?” he asked quietly. “I’m not leaving, Sweetheart. Even if you try to force me, I love you too much to do that.”

Her face crumbled, hot tears flooding her vision.

She didn’t expect this. She didn’t expect him to follow her, pick up his life and transplant himself. No one did that for anyone. Not even people they loved without thinking it over a dozen times, without considering all their options.

Maybe a serious couple, or spouses…but she never thought that would happen to her.

Rey never thought someone would love her enough to do such a wild, yet sacrificial gesture. To be wanted beyond a simple companionship.

But then again, nothing was ever simple between her and Ben.

“Ben…” she felt a large, warm hand wiping away her tears. “…you…you can’t just move—”

“Who says I can’t?” he countered, his voice low and hush. The sound of the pattering rain against the glass windows soothed the chaos running through her chest and mind. “It’s my life. I have no obligations to Ahch-To other than my mother who fully supports my decision, and my home…my home is with you.”

Lifting their joined hand, Rey pressed her lips to his knuckles. “Mine is too…” she murmured against his skin. “And…And I’m sorry for how I was acting.” She chewed on her lower lip, sniffling once then twice. “I just…I didn’t think you’d want to leave and I was scared and I know how much those movies mean to you and—”

“I know,” Ben interjected. “I know you were scared, because I was scared too. But I’m not anymore.” He then shrugged a little helplessly. “And I know I can be a bit much with my movies—”

“I love how enthusiastic you are about them, I shouldn’t have said what I said—”

“No,” Ben shook his head. “I needed to hear it because you were right. I was hiding behind my favorite movies and not living my life. And I plan to change that.”

“Really?” she said, both stunned but moved. “I mean, I still want Friday to be movie night—”

“Of course, we are not changing that,” Ben insisted with a tired chuckle. “Nothing is going to change movie night.”

“Good,” Rey murmured, pressing the back of his hand against her cheek. “Because I do love movie night, and I know you do too.”

“But movies aren’t my everything,” Ben said with conviction, “_you’re_ my everything. And nothing is going to change that.”

* * *

Together, arm in arm, they walked out of the coffeeshop and into the pouring rain. Ben slouched to hide under Rey’s umbrella, but it was proving to be futile.

Only three steps and the two forgone the entire thing, choosing to face the rain all the way back to her apartment.

At their own pace they walked, feeling no need to run despite the water soaking them down to the bone. They passed by different shops and restaurants, a few offices here and there silently committing the path together to memory.

Once they reached Rey’s building, she ran up the stoop and dug for her keys.

As her hands brushed them, she felt Ben pull her a step back, rain falling upon her head once more.

“Ben what are you—”

Her words were silenced with a firm, loving kiss.

Soft, yet tendered. Cold except where Ben’s hands grazed the skin of her neck and were his lips met hers. Her hands clasped for purchase on his wet windbreaker, pushing herself up on her toes as he leaned further down into her orbit. She never wanted to leave his hold.

All felt perfect…except for _one_ thing.

Pulling away, she squinted up at him through the rain. “I thought you hated rain kisses. Aren’t they for only for ‘doomed couples’?”

“I’ve reevaluated my theory,” he confessed, blinking away water from his eyes. “All those couples…weren’t bad because of the rain kiss. In fact, they weren’t bad at all…just different but perfect for each other.”

“What are you saying?” she asked with a teasing grin, nudging and poking him in the ribs.

He rolled his eyes, catching her poking fingers with both is hands. “Maybe…maybe rain kisses are reserved for the best couples, not the doomed ones.”

“You idiot.” Grinning brightly, she pulled him down for another kiss.

A roll of thunder echoed above them, rain pouring in tenfold.

Yet neither minded the rain, not when they had each other.

* * *

(Yes, dear reader, Rey and Ben ended up with a weeklong cold after their kiss in the rain.

Both also confessed kisses in the rain are not all they are cracked up to be. Wet, cold, and public for the most part, a bit too much for our finicky and stubborn couple to handle. After all, they liked their privacy.

They both vowed to never try such a kiss again.

That is until they discovered shower sex. And well, they had different opinions on _that_ matter.)

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END! YAY!
> 
> I absolutely loved writing this fic! Probably one of the fastest and favorites I have ever written! Thanks for coming on this journey with me!
> 
> I did not plan an epilogue, but if you want one, let me know in the comments! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Love discussing the fic with readers :D


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